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ILLUSTRATED. 



C)i9l)ln jTinisljc^ Cine (iJugvaDtng, 



FROM DRAWINGS TAKEN ON THE SPOT, 



BY JAMES SMILLIE. 



DESCRIPTIVE NOTICES 



BY CORNELIA W. WALTER. 
A' 



I 

NEW YORK: ^ 
PUBLISHED BY MARTIN AMD JOHNSON, 

27 BEE K MAN STREET. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1847, 

Bv nOBERT MARTIN, 

In the CierK's OHico of the District Court of tlie United States for tlie Southern District of New York 



MOUIT AUBUEN, 



■ Here I have 'scaped the city's stifling lieat, 
Its horrid sounds, and its polluted air ; 
And, where the season's milder fervors beat, 

And gales that sweep the forest borders, bear 
The song of birds and sound of running stream, 
Am come awhile to wander and to dream." 



' And northern pilgrims, with slow, lingering feet, 
Stray round each vestige of thy loved retreat. 
And spend in homage half one sunny day. 
Before they pass upon their wandering way." 



[Bryant. 



The beautiful forest- tract which has been chosen, bj so manyol tut 
citizens of Boston and its environs, as a fitting spot to be the last rest- 
ing-place of the living when dust shall be returned to its original dust, 
has emphatically a history of its own — a history not more of data, 
possession, and original ownership, than of thoughts and contempla- 
tions An unwritten history, it is true, it must ever be ; but if those 
thickly wooded vales, yet fresh with the growth of centuries, could be 
endowed with language, many an ethical and pathetic story could they 
tell. Volumes of varied material might they give, woven of the 
heart-thoughts of countless wayfaring pilgrims, who have sought a 
couch and canopy under the spreading branches of the umbrageous 
trees, to meditate on present plans and future prospects, ere launching 



6 MOUNT AUBUKN ILLUSTRATED. 

llioir harks upon the ocean of life, and whilst nerving themselves to 
breast the adverse billows, — hoping to float calmly upon prosperous 
waves. "Anticipation shadows forth enjoyments which we never 
realize ; and though hope shoidd fill the chalice to overflowing, disap- 
pointment may draw ofi" its waters whilst our parched lips are quiver- 
ing at the brim." Happy hours, however, dwell in the memory 
precisely as man has passed through them ; and, as " a thing of beauty 
is a joy forever," so those periods of meditation which have been de- 
rived from the enticements of Mount Auburn, will remain constantly 
fixed in the recollection, as bright oases in the pilgrimage of life. We 
have heard of a venerable octogenarian, who/or sixty-five years made 
annual visits to this seat of many a boyish ramble, every suunner 
bringing with it an increase of pleasure, even as time brought to the 
old man a decrease of strength. But the pleasure was in contempla- 
tion ; the gratification was derived from his better views of life. In 
youth he sought the rustic spot, to chase the gray-squirrel from her 
nest, — to gather wild-flowers midst the dark green woods, — or to carve 
his name upon tlu> bark of the noble trees, in a vain reaching after im- 
mortality ; — in middle life, he found yet other pleasures amid strange 
vicissitudes; — and in old age, he had learned the lesson that "he who 
anticipates the enjoyment of high-raised hopes, builds castles in the 
air, calculates on a meteor, anchors in a cloud." He had " a hope full 
of immortality," and ere he drew his last breath, he saw the scene of 
his wanderings converted into a field of the dead ! Then he deeply 
realized that " all that we behold is full of blessings," and he felt again 
a fulness of J03 , — 

" Knowing tliat Nature never did betray 
Tlie heart that loved her." 



MOUNT AUBIJIIN ILLUSTRATED. 7 

Life is full of changes ; and Mouut Auburn itself is an illustration 
of a change. A fairy region it has seemed to the traveller and stu- 
dent, who have sought its sequestration for the purposes of intellectual 
indulgence ; — a terrestrial paradise it has proved to all seekers after 
the beautiful in nature ; and, so enticing have been its groves, its 
scenery and associations, that it received long since, the significant 
appellation of " Sweet Auburn" — a name, as yet, unforgottcn, though 
innovation has been at work, and the favorite resort of the promena- 
ding explorer, the inviting ground of the botanist, the cliarmcd retreat 
of the thoughtful student, has become dedicated earth — a consecrated 
spot — a rural cemetery — a "garden of graves!" Who now will enter 
such a place, without the joy of elevated thought ] Faith interfuses 
itself throughout the whole of being, when we contemplate man's fu- 
ture destiny, and the soul's immortality ; and, in walking abroad with 
nature, amidst the graves of a departing generation, there is, in the 
language of Wordsworth, 

" A motion and a spirit that impels 
All thinking things, all objects of all thoughts 
And rolls through all things." 

The eye of the mind never wilfully blinds itself amidst such a scene. 
Our very faith gives to us an awakened sense, and we are again well 
pleased, with the poet, 

" to recognise 



In nature and the language of the sense, 
The anchor of our purest thoughts ; the nurse, 
The guide, the guardian of our hearts, and soul 
Of all our moral being." 

That which was once an unappropriated woodland, known as 



S MOUNT AUBUKN ILLUSTRATED. 

" Stone's Woods," and more lovingly designated as " Sweet Auburn," 
has become a burial-place for the dead, having a peculiar affinity Avith 
the spirit-land, even while amidst the very rank and range of mortal 
being. The acacia and the willow now emulate each other in their 
melancholy offices of love, and gently bend over the graves of the loved 
and lost, as they were wont to wave over the brow of contemplation, 
and they now shed the dew of morning and evening upon the monu- 
ments of genius, as they erst have shaken off the sparkhng drops upon 
the mighty men, of which the enduring stone has become the meet 
memorial. 

And it is indeed a fitting spot for such a purpose. The place which, 
as we have shown, has so courted the repose of the living, seems nat- 
urally to be appropriate for the sepulchre of the dead. The sombre 
shade of its groves, the solemn calm of all things around, appeal to the 
religious sense, and strike upon the mind as God's appointed indica- 
tions of a " field of peace ;" and the everywhere pervasive quiet is as 
an heaven-destined consocration for that "sleep which knows no 
waking." 

And now, let us look again around us. We gaze upon the monu- 
ments, mounds, and tombs ; we read the inscriptions and epitaphs with 
a pleasant feeling of veneration and reverence for those who have de- 
parted life in our own day and generation. The rural cemetery of 
Mount Auburn is too newly planned for old associations ; and we wan- 
der over the verdant earth which encloses so much of recently departed 
life, with a tide of rushing recollections. Not as the traveller or mod- 
ern Roman walks amongst the burial-ways of ancient Rome, and 
passes by the " nameless monuments of nameless existences, long since 
gone out amid the perpetual extinguishment of life ;" but with a deep 



MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 



aud clinging interest, as though we Avalked amongst a muUitudinous 
kindred, and held high and ennobling converse with the beatified 
spirits of those cherished ones who are not lost to ns, but only " gone 
before." It is hallowed ground on which we tread, and the deep, dark 
wood is holy. The monuments of ]\fount Auburn mark an earthly 
sepulchre ; but the spot itself, with its abundant and impressive beau- 
ties, is, as it were, the inscribed Monument of Nature to the never- 
fading greatness of the supreme Judge of both quick and dead — the 
invincible Arbiter of our fate, both here and hereafter ! Heathen 
must be that heart which does not worship the Almighty amidst these 
consecrated fanes. To the true imagination, God should be seen in 
the bright light which beams in the noontide over those wavy forest- 
trees ; he should be heard in the wind-murmurings which make the 
leaves rustle, and sway the tender grass ; he should be felt " in the 
sorrows which, to the heart of sympathy, are living all around us, in the 
gentle sighings of bereft companions and friends !" 



MOUNT AUBURN CEMETERY. 



We are " strangers and sojourners" here. We have need of " a possession of a burying 
|)lace that we may bury our dead out of ovir sight." Let us have " the field and the cave 
which is therein ; and all the trees that are in the field, and that are in the borders round 
about ;" and let them '• be made sure for a possession of a burying-place." 



It appears from the various published records, and it is gratefully 
admitted by a more than satisfied public, that Mount Auburn Cemetery 
owes its origin to Dr. Jacob Bigelow, of Bo.ston, the present 
president of the Corporation — a gentleman who early became im- 
pressed with the impolicy of burials under churches or in church- 
yards approximating closely to the abodes of the living. By him 
the plan for the rural cemetery was first conceived, and the first 
meeting on tlie subject called at his house in November, 1825. The 
project met the fa\oral)le consideration of his friends, among whom 
were various individuals, whose judgment in such matters was known 
to be correct, and Avhose influence proved to be eflective. Included 
in the numljcr were the late Judge Story, the late John Lowell, Esq., 
the late George Bond, Esq., the Hon. Edward Everett, Wm. Sturgis, 
Esq., Cen. Dearborn, Nathan Hale, Esq., Thomas AV. Ward, Esq., 
Samuel P. Gardner, Esq., John Tappan, Esq., and others. 

No suitable place, however, was fixed upon until nearly five years 
afterw ards, when Dr. Bigelow obtained from George W. Brimmer, Esq., 
the overture of the land then called "Sweet Auliurn," for the purpose of 



MOIINT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 11 

a cemetery. The Massachusetts Horticultural Society was established 
in 1829, and, whilst in its infancy, and when the project for the cemetery 
also was but in embryo, it was thought by the parties concerned, that 
by an union of the objects of each, the success and prosperity of both 
would be finally insured. The Horticultural Society, after due con- 
sideration, decided to purchase the land of JNIr. Brimmer (then 
comprising about 72 acres) for $6000, and it was determined to 
devote it to the purposes of a rural cemetery, and experimental 
garden. The ground was enclosed and consecrated in September, 
18r31. The Experimental Garden, owing to reasons unnecessary to 
introduce here, was subsequently relinquished ; and, after a certain 
time, the proprietors of the Cemetery lots resolved to purchase the 
land from the Horticultural Society, and to appropriate its whole 
extent as a place of interment. This arrangement was amicably 
made, and an Act of Incorporation by the Legislature was obtained 
by the new proprietors in 1835, by which the Cemetery is exempted 
from pubhc taxes, and its management vested in a Board of Trustees. 
From this moment the enterprise prospered, as so admirable an un- 
dertaking, and one so entirely divested of all selfish interests of 
pecuniary gain, might be expected to do. 

The Rural Cemetery of Mount Au])urn, in Massachusetts, has been 
the example and pattern of every similar institution in the United 
States. It was commenced long before any other was thought of. 
and it has struck a chord, the vibrations of which were destined 
to be felt t.hroughout our country. 

Besides the very important business of laying out the ground in 
avenues, paths, and lots, it was a part of the original design to build 
a suitable gateway, a building for the superintendent, a strong and 



12 MOUNT Al'BUUN ILLUSTRATED. 

durable enclosure, a chapel, and an observatory on the top of the 
highest eminence ; to procure the draining of some of the low land^ 
so as to make it available for cemetery purposes, and to amass a 
permanent fund to keep it in good order. Most of these objects 
have been attained, as our after pages will show, and a permanent 
fund may be considered as already secure. Enough money to have 
formed such a fund has already been received over and a])ove ex- 
penses ; but it has wisely been thought advisable for the present, 
to appropriate such surplus to those permanent and utilitarian im- 
provements, which would exhibit this pattern Cemetery to the world 
as a great and laudable undertaking — a wholly successful enterprise. 

Ever since the first incorporation of the institution, much of its 
care has, by the Trustees, been vested in the discretion of Dr. Bige- 
low, and by him the designs of the stone gateway, the iron fence, and 
the new chapel, have been made. 

That admirable man and eminent jurist, Joseph Story, LL.D., was 
the first President, and gave his influential support to the establish- 
ment during its infancy. He delivered the consecrating address, he 
frequented its walks, and engaged in its concerns with a truly parental 
interest, which lasted while his life continued. 

General H. A. S. Dearborn gave his aid in a disinterested and 
indefatigable manner. By him the capacities of the ground were 
studied, and the avenues and paths chiefly laid out, whilst the belt 
of trees in front of the Cemetery was planted at his expense. 

The late George W. Brimmer, Esq., the proprietor of the seventy- 
two acres first obtained by the society, liberally disposed of it for 
its present purpose at cost, and freely bestowed both his time and 
cultivated taste upon its early improvement. 



MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 13 

Charles P. Curtis, Esq., hy his fiuaucial and legal services ren- 
dered important assistance during the formation of the institution, and 
has been an actiA e trustee from the beginning. 

The late George Bond, Esq., was an early and ardent friend of 
the enterprise, and during his lifetime, performed many essential 
services in furtherance of the objects of the society. — Martin Brim- 
mer, late Mayor of Boston, James Read, Isaac Parker, B. A. Gould, 
B. R. Curtis, Esqrs., and the late Joseph P. Bradlcc, Esq., were its early 
and active supporters. 

, We mention these brief facts in proof that earnestness of purpose, 
combined with individual enthusiasm and perseverance, can securely 
carry into effect any laudable and practicable undertaking. 

Mount Auburn Cemetery had a diligent and clear-sighted projector, 
and an influential board to carry out the necessary designs — who 
began with properly directed views in regard to the benefit of living 
humanity. It has therefore gone on and prospered. Already its 
limits have been extended by a new purchase of land, and it now 
covers one hundred and ten acres. Upwards of one thousand two 
hundred proprietors have purchased lots of varied extent, and there 
is room enough for vast additions to the numbers of the buried dead. 
" JNIount Auburn," said the lamented Story, in his Consecration Ad- 
dress, " in the noblest sense, belongs no longer to the living, but to the 
dead. It is a sacred, it is an eternal trust. It is consecrated ground. 
May it remain forever, inviolate !" 

The distance of Mount Auburn from the metropolis of Massachu- 
setts is about four miles. It is partly within the limits of Cambridge 
and Watertown, and is situated on the south side of the main road 
leading from the first-named town to the last. The Cemetery is laid 



14 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED 

out, thus far, in twenty-three intersecting avenues, and about seventy- 
lour foot-patlis ; and here we may be permitted to re-appropriate the 
lines of the poet, in applying to natural beauty what he so properly 
condemns in the formal school of his time ; and to say literally, in 
view of the forest umbrageousness of these numerous openings, that 

" tree nods to tree, 



Each alley has its brother." 

The avenues are winding in their course and exceedingly beautiful in 
their gentle circuits, adapted picturesquely to the inequalities of the sur- 
face of the ground, and producing charming landscape effects from this 
natural arrangement, such as could never be had from straightness or 
regularity. Various small lakes, or ponds of different size and shape, 
embellish the grounds ; and some of these have been so cleansed, 
deepened, and banked, as to present a pleasant feature in this wide- 
spread extent of forest loveliness — this ground of hallowed purpose. 
The gates of the enclosure are opened at sunrise and closed at 
sunset, and thither crowds go up to meditate, and to wander in a 
field of peace ; to twine the votive garland around the simple head- 
stone, or to sow the seed of fioral life over the new-made grave — fit 
emblems of our own growth, decay, and death. Mount Auburn 
appears to be " the first example in modern times of so large a tract 
of ground being selected for its natural beauties, and submitted to the 
processes of landscape gardening, to prepare it for the reception of the 
dead." 

The present price of a lot is SlOO for three hundred superficial 
square feet, and in proportion for a larger lot. The number of monu- 
ments already erected, amounts to nearly three hundred, many of 



MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 15 

which are elegant and costly. Limited pecuniary means will proba- 
bly ever be a reason why the majority of these tributes to the 
departed will be of a simple character, and erected at small expense. 
But good taste, happily, is not subservient to the power of gold, and 
should ever be consitlted even in the simplest memorial. The Avealth 
which justifies large expenditures is not always successfully applied, 
and we have seen sepulchral structures of high cost, which, to the 
beholder, admitted of no other feeling than that they were monuments 
of the bad taste of the designer. An understanding of purely classic 
forms, and a chaste taste, will cause an enduring memorial to be placed 
over a departed friend, which shall be a model of unpretending 
beauty ; but a false taste will erect a clumsy mass of granite or mar- 
ble, which shall exhibit, perhaps, a futile effort to surpass others, and 
be in reality an architectural abomination. The grassy and elevated 
mound duly planted with the flowers of the revolving seasons, and 
watered by the hand of affection, is a far better and more pleasing 
monument than an unsuccessful effort of the other kind, and infinitely 
more grateful to the traveller's eye. "I have seen," says the venerable 
Chateaubriand, "memorable monuments to Crassus and to Caesar, but 
I prefer the airy tombs of the Indians, tliose mausoleums of flowers 
and verdure refreshed by the morning dew, embalmed and fanned 
by the breeze, and over which waves the same branch where the 
blackbird builds his nest, and utters forth his plaintive melody." 

To render Mount Auburn or any other rural burial-place ah that it 
ought to be in the way of monumental beattty, the utmost care should 
be paid to the classic selection and proper variety of its sepulchral 
devices — its cenotaphs, monoliths, and obelisks; and they should 
be constructed of material least calculated to be impaired by the 



J6 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

influences of time and weather. Neatness should always be observed 
in the cultivation of that floral growth which constitutes another kind 
of burial offering. The flowers planted on or around the spot of in- 
terment, whilst as far as possible maintaining their natural appear- 
ance, should never be permitted to run together and crowd like weeds, 
but should be so carefully trained, separated, and arranged, as to 
impress the passer-by with a sure feeling that those interred beneath, 
nave a perpetual memory in the hearts of the survivors ; that they are 
duly cared for as perennial memorials of the love of friends, or, what 
is more comforting still, as symbols and types of the resurrection ! 

" Then will we love the modest flower, 
And cherish it with tears ; 
It minds us of our fleeting time, 
Yet chases all our fears. 

"And when our hour of rest shall be, 
We will not weep our doom ; 
So angel-mission'd flowers may come 
And gather roimd the tomb !" 



THE PORTAL. 



" Speak low ! the place is holy to the breath 
Of awful harmonies, of whisperM prayer ; 
Tread lightly ! for the sanctity of death 

Broods with a voiceless influence on the air : 
Stern, yet serene I a reconciling spell, 
Each troubled billow of the soul to quell." 



The main entrance to this favored "haunt of nature" — this solemn, 
and now consecrated fane — exemplifies the beauty of adaptation to 
the dignity of a mighty sepulchre, — one of those forest-groves which 
the poet has called the " first temples" of the Almighty — one of those 
ancient sanctuaries, which had their being long 

" Ere man had learn'd 
To hew the shaft and lay the architrave, 
And spread the roof above them." 

Originally the portal was of wood, rough-cast, in imitation of stone, 
and the connected paling on either side was of wood also. The lofty 
entrance-gate has now been reconstructed, in granite, in the same 
style of architecture as at first — the Egyptian — and it presents to the 



18 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

beholder an imposing structure, the very massivcncss and complete 
workmanship of which, insures an almost eternal duration. It is less 
heavy, however, than the common examples of that stylo. Its piers 
have not the pyramidal or sloping form so common in Egyptian edi- 
fices, hut are made vertically erect, like the more chaste examples in 
the great portals of Thebes and Denderah. The massive cornice by 
which it is surmounted is of a single stone, measuring 24 feet in 
height by 12 in breadth. It is ornamented with the " winged globe" 
and fluted foliage of the Egyptian style, and bears underneath this 
inscription, in raised letters, between its filleted mouldings: — 

" Then shall the Dust return to the Earth as it was, vnd the .Spirit shall 

RETURN unto GoD WHO GAVE IT," 



"MOUNT AUBURN. 
Consecrated September 24, 1831." 

The two low structures at the sides, are rooms occupied as the 
porter's lodge, and the office of the superintendent. 

As regards monuments or designs of the Egyptian style, for places 
of Christian interment, we are aware that an objection made to 
them has been, that they mark a period antei-ior to Christian civihza- 
tlon — a period of relative degradation and paganism; bat it has ever 
been a pleasure with the thoughtful, to look beyond the actual appear- 
ance of a figure, to the right development of its original idea. The 
now mythologizcd doctrines of Egypt, seem to have been the original 



THE PORTAL. ]f) 

source of others more ennobling ; and hieroglyphical discoveries have 
traced, and are tracing them far bc) ond the era of the pyramids, to an 
unknown limit, but to a pure, sacred, and divine source. When the 
art of writing was unknown, the primeval Egyptians resorted to sym- 
bols and emblems to express their faith ; and these, as correctly inter- 
preted, certainly present many sublime ideas in connection with those 
great truths which in an after age constituted the doctrines of " Chris- 
tianity." Some of their sculptures and paintings were undoubtedly 
symbolical of the resurrection of the soul, a dread of the final judg- 
ment, and a belief in Omnipotent justice. The very pyramidal shape, 
of which the Egyptians were so fond, is believed to indicate an idea 
not disgraceful to a wholly Christian era. The reason why this form 
was chosen for their tombs, is declared by the learned Rosellini to 
have been, because it represented the mountain, the holy hill, the 
divine sanctuary cut in the mountain, i. e., the tomb. The mountain 
was sacred among the Egyptians as the abode of the dead, and was 
identical with the sepulchre, the nether world, and their Amcnti, the 
future state. The image or figure of a hill became an emblem of 
death, and the pyramidal form, which imitated it, was a funereal symbol 
— an object consecrated to the abode of the departed. The "winged 
globe," which is carved on the gateway of JNIount Auburn, is a most 
beautiful emblem of benign protection. In the form of a sun, with 
outstretched wings, it covers the facades of most Egyptian buildings, 
and was the primitive type of the divine wisdom — the universal Pro- 
tector. We do not know of a more fitting emblem than this for the 
abode of the dead, which we may well suppose to be overshadowed 
with the protecting wings of Him who is the great author of our 
being — the "giver of life and death." 



0(j MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTUATED. 

The gateway of Mount Auburn opens from what is known as the 
old Cambridge road, and in front of Central Avenue, on the north 
boundary line of the Cemetery. This avenue forms a wide carriage- 
road, and is one of the most beautiful openings ever improved for such 
a purpose. With the exception of the necessary grading, levelling, and 
cutting down of the brushwood, and the planting of a few trees, it has 
been left as Nature has made it. On either side it is overshadowed 
by the foliage of forest-trees, firs, pines, and other evergreens; and 
here you first begin to see the monuments starting up from the sur- 
rounding verdure, like bright remembrances from the heart of earth. 

In 1844, the increasing funds of the corporation justified a new ex- 
penditure for the plain but massy iron fence which encloses the front 
of the Cemetery. This fence is ten feet in height, and supported on 
granite posts extending four feet into the ground. It measures half a 
mile in length, and will, when completed, efiectually preserve the Cem- 
etery inviolate from any rude intrusion. The cost of the gateway was 
about $10,000 — the fence, $15,000. 

A continuation of the iron fence on the easterly side is now under 
contract, and a strong wooden palisade is, as we learn, to be erected 
on tne remaining boundary during the present year. 



THE BINNEY MONUMENT. 



" A lovely shrine ! a cherub form 
Extended on its marble bed 
As if the gentle dews of sleep 

Had droop'd the little floweret's head. 
Fair image '. spotless as the snow ; 
Pure as the angel shape below, 
When first that lifeless sleeper came, 
In the brown mould to rest its frame." 



The monument of which the engraving gives so pleasing a view, 
is in Yarrow Path, and the figure itself is a most accurate resem- 
blance of the cherub child of whose image it is the embodiment. 
It is the work of Henry Dexter, an artist of taste and reputation, and 
was taken just as the original lay on her pallet after death ; — even 
the indenture on the bed, made by the body, is strikingly represented; 
the hands are crossed upon the breast, and the feet bare, and crossed 
likewise. When first finished, in all the shining purity of the marble, 
the statue, notwithstanding the coldness of the substance, seemed to 
have an actual life about it. In its recumbent posture, and with the 
pillowed head, it appears indeed like an infant sleeping : — 

" She had no pulse, but death seem'd absent still." 

The " marble bed" upon which this infant figure reposes, is surrounded 
with four small columns, and the finished work is a meet memo- 



22 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

rial of departed innocence and beauty. It reminds us of the lost child 
of the Indian mother, whom Chateaubriand describes as coming to 
plant flowers upon the turf where reposed her departed infant, whom 
she thus addresses : — " Why should I deplore thy early grave, oh ! my 
first-born 1 When the newly fledged bird first seeks his food, he finds 
many bitter grains. Thou hast never felt the pangs of sorrow, and thy 
heart was never polluted by the poisonous breath of man. The rose 
that is nipped in the bud, dies enclosed with all its perfumes, like thee, 
my child, with all thy innocence. Happy are those who die in 
infancy ; they have never known the joys or sorrows of a mother." 

This expression of chastened grief is as touching as it is pure. W^e 
cannot forget, in its connection, the promise of Him who said of little 
children, " of such is the kingdom of heaven." 

This beautiful monument, so much visited by wanderers over Mount 
Auburn, exhibits the first marble statue executed in Boston, and it 
marks the lot of C. J. F. Binney, Esq., of Boston. There are now but 
two ])ersonal representations in Mount Auburn, and this is one of them. 
Monumental tributes of this class are as yet rare in our country, though 
no style can be more appropriate in memory of buried friends. The 
following verses form an impromptu tribute, on beholding the marble 
memorial in Yarrow Path : — 

"The dread power of heaven alone can restore 
That life to the dead, which it gave them before ; 
But man's lofty genius can rescue from death, 
The last lovely look, the last smile, the last breath. 

" The sculptor, in marble, a life can restore, 
That never will perish till time be no more ; 
Thus the great, the ingenious, the lovely and pure, 
For example, apphiuse, and affection endure." 



THE NAVAL MONUMENT. 



" And long they look'd, but never spied 
The welcome step again." 

" Near the deep was the slaughter, 
And there the sudden blow, 
Brave blood pour'd out like water, — 
The vengeance of the foe." 



The principal obelisk represented in the opposite engraving, is a 
lofty cenotaph of pure white marble, ornamented on the four sides 
with festoons of roses in relievo, and presenting altogether a monument 
of good proportion, strikingly chaste and simple. It is erected to 
the memory of four officers of the United States Exploring Expedition, 
the melancholy termination of whose lives is here briefly recorded 
by the surviving companions of their noble and perilous enterprise. 
Their melancholy fate was not met in the reckless pursuit of gain, nor 
in the mad chase after military glory ; but in the nobler and equally 



24 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATKU. 

daring career of the pioneers of civilization, in extending the bonnds 
of humanity and science, whilst surveying unknown seas for the benefit 
and security of those who were to come after them. 

The fate of two of the young officers — passed midshipmen James 
W. Reid and Fredeuic A. Bacon — whose names are recorded upon 
the marble, is shrouded in obscurity. Among the vessels of the expe- 
dition, were two New York pilot-boats, called the Flying-fish and the 
Seagull, — the latter commanded by Mr. Reid, who had with him Mr. 
Bacon and fifteen men. The other vessels having sailed from Orange 
Bay, near Cape Horn, on the 28th April, 1839, these two small vessels 
also took their departure for Valparaiso. A heavy gale came on 
during that night, and the Flying-fish returned to her anchorage, hav- 
ing lost sight of the Seagull. The other vessels arrived in safety, but 
the little Seagull was never heard of more. The commodore of the 
Pacific station, some time afterwards, dispatched a man-of-war to 
search the shores of Terra del Fuego — but it was in vain. She is 
supposed to have foundered in the boisterous seas off Cape Horn, 
when all on board must have perished. Lieut. Wilkes, commander of 
the expedition, speaks of these two officers as having no superiors in 
the squadron, for the station they occupied. " They brought with them 
into the expedition," he says, " a high character ; and during the short 
period in which they were attached to it, they were distinguished for 
their devotedncss to the arduous service in which they were engaged." 
]Mr. Bacon was a native of Connecticut. Mr. Reid, a native of Geor- 
gia, son of the late Gov. Reid of Florida. 

On the reverse side of this cenotaph, the inscription reads as 
follows :— 



THE NAVAL MONUMENT. 26 



TO THE MEMORY OF 



Lieutenant JOSEPH A. UNDERWOOD, 

AND 

Midshipman WILKES HENRY, 

WHO EELI. Br THE HANDS OF SAVAGES, WHILST PROMOTING THE CAUSE OF SCIENCE 

AND PHILANTHROPY, 

A.1 MOLOLO, ONE OF THE FeJEE GROUP OF IsLANDS, 

July 24, 1840. 

The sanguinary and barbarous character of the Fejee islanders, has 
long been a theme of marvel to the whalers and traders to the Pacific, 
but the atrocity of their premeditated and entirely unprovoked attack 
upon poor Underwood and his party, has rarely been surpassed. 
These officers had boldly gone on shore to procure provision from the 
natives, when they were suddenly attacked by some of the cannibals 
of the place, and killed by club wounds. 

All the usual precautions in dealing with these treacherous savages 
were adopted : a native, supposed at that time to be a chief, secured in 
the boat as hostage, and the remainder of the party, with the boats 
and arms, being ready for any emergency. But alas ! the wily canni- 
bals had laid their plans with a too fatal certainty. Having lured Mr. 
Underwood and his party on shore, and whilst their attention was en- 
gaged in bartering, the hostage leaped overboard, making his escape ; 
and at the same moment, as if by preconcerted signal, the natives 
sprang from their hiding-places, and fell upon them with spears and 
war-clubs, in overpowering numbers. And here it was that the cool- 
ness and heroic, self-sacrificing spirit of the officers shone forth glo- 



26 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

riously, — exposing their own lives in covering the retreat of the men, 
who all made their escape, while Underwood and Henry, after a short 
conflict, were beaten down by the war-clubs of the fell destroyers. 

Such was the tragic fate of these brave men, in connection with 
which there is but one alleviating circumstance — that their bodies 
were rescued from the savage foe. Though interred leagues from home 
and kindred, where no tear of affection could water the bier, they 
received a Christian sepulture, where the thick trees wave over their 
hidden graves, and where, ten miles from the place of the massacre, 
the everlasting rocks will be their eternal monument ! Their bodies 
were transported to one of the sand-islands of a neighboring group, 
and, wrapped in their country's flag, were suitably interred there. 
The following affecting passage in relation to this melancholy service, 
is from Capt. Wilkes' Narrative of the Exploring Expedition : — 

" Twenty sailors, (all dressed in white,) with myself and officers, 
landed to pay this last mark of affection and respect to those who had 
shared so many dangers with us, and of whom we were so suddenly 
bereaved. The quiet of the scene, the solemnity of the occasion, and 
the smallness of the number who assisted, were all calculated to pro- 
duce an unbroken silence. The bodies were quietly taken up and 
borne along to the centre of the island, where stood a grove of ficus 
trees, whose limbs were entwined in all directions by running vines. 
It was a lonely and suitable spot, in a shade so dense that scarce a ray 
of the sun could penetrate it. The grave was dug deep and wide in 
the pure white sand, and the funeral service read over the remains 
with such deep feeling, that none will forget the impression of that sad 
half hour. After the bodies had been closed in, three volleys were 
fired over the grave, and every precaution taken to erase all marks 



THE NAVAL MONUMENT. 2i 

that might indicate where these unfortunate gentlemen were interred. 
To fix a more enduring mark on the place, the island itself was named 
after young ' Henry,' and the cluster of which it forms one, ' Under- 
wood Group.' " 

The cenotaph at Mount Auburn stands upon Central Avenue, and 
tells the lingerer upon the spot, that it was erected to the memory of 
these unfortunate men, "by their associates, the officers and scientific 
corps of the United States Exploring Expedition.** 

The other obelisk seen in the engraving, marks the lot of B. Fiske, 
Esq., of Boston. 



INTERMENT OF THE DEAD. 



In the first number of this work we have dwelt upon the natural 
and picturesque beauties of Mount Auburn, and have presented the 
reasons why this remarkable spot seemed eminently adapted for a re- 
pository of the dead, and a place of consolation to the living. We 
have thought it well to commence this second part with some more 
philosophical views of the advantage and necessity of suburban ceme- 
teries, such as form the subjects of these serial publications. For this 
purpose, we have made use of a lecture delivered in Boston, by Dr 
BiGELOw, at the time when the subject was first agitated among us. 
Some portions of this discourse we have inserted at length, and others 
in a condensed form. 

" The manner in which we dispose of the remains of our deceased 
friends, is a subject which has begun, of late, to occupy a large share of 
the pubUc attention. It involves not only considerations which belong 
to the public convenience, but includes also the gratification of indi- 
vidual taste and the consolation of private sorrow. Although, in a 
strictly philosophical view, this subject possesses but little importance, 
except in relation to the convenience of survivors, yet so closely are 



INTERMENT OP THE DEAD. 29 

our sympathies enlisted with it, and so inseparably do we connect the 
feelings of the living with the condition of the dead, that it is in vain 
that we attempt to divest ourselves of its influence. It is incumbent 
upon us, therefore, to analyze, as far as we may be able, the principles 
which belong to a correct view of the subject, — since it is only by un- 
derstanding these, that we may expect both reason and feeling to be 
satisfied." 

" The progress of all organized beings is towards decay. The com- 
plicated textures which the living body elaborates within itself, begin 
to fall asunder almost as soon as life has ceased. The materials of 
which animals and vegetables are composed, have natural laws and 
irresistible affinities, which are suspended during the period of life, but 
which must be obeyed the moment that life is extinct. These con- 
tinue to operate until the exquisite fabric is reduced to a condition in 
nowise different from that of the soil on which it has once trodden. 
In certain cases art may modify, and accident may retard the ap- 
proaches of disorganization, but the exceptions thus produced are too 
few and imperfect to invalidate the certainty of the general law. 

" If we take a comprehensive survey of the progress and mutations 
of animal and vegetable life, we shall perceive that this necessity of 
individual destruction is the basis of general safety. The elements 
which have once moved and circulated in living frames, do not be- 
come extinct nor useless after death ; — they offer themselves as the 
materials from which other living frames are to be constructed. What 
has once possessed life is most assimilated to the living character, and 
most ready to partake of life again. The plant which springs from 
the earth, after attaining its growth and perpetuating its species, falls 
to the ground, undergoes decomposition, and contributes its remains to 



30 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

the nourishment of plants around it. The myriads of animals which 
range the woods or inhabit the air, at length die upon the surface of 
the earth, and if not devoured by other animals, prepare for vegetation 
the place which receives their remains. Were it not for this law of 
nature, the soil would be soon exhausted, the earth's surface would be- 
come a barren waste, and the whole race of organized beings, for want 
of sustenance, would become extinct. 

" Man alone, the master of the creation, does not willingly stoop to 
become a participator in the routine of nature. In every age he has 
manifested a disposition to exempt himself, and to rescue his fellow, 
from the common fate of living beings. Although he is prodigal of 
the Uves of other classes, and sometimes sacrifices a hundred inferior 
bodies to procure for himself a single repast, yet he regards with scru- 
pulous anxiety the destination of his own remains ; and much labor 
and treasure are devoted by him to ward off for a season the inevita- 
ble courses of nature. Under the apprehension of posthumous degra- 
dation, human bodies have been embalmed, — their concentrated dust 
has been enclosed in golden urns, — monumental fortresses have been 
piled over their decaying bones ; — with what success and with what 
use, it remains to be considered." 

A few instances are selected, in which measures have been taken 
to protect the human frame from decay, which will be seen to have 
been, in some cases, partially successful, in others not so. 

King Edward I. of England died in 1307. His body was embalmed, 
and buried in Westminster Abbey. About 467 years afterwards, a 
number of antiquarians obtained leave to open the sarcophagus, when 
the body was found in a high state of preservation. 

Another instance of nearly the same result is recollected in the 



INTERMENT OF THE DEAD. 31 

body of King Charles I. This was found by accident at Windsor, in 
1813, in the wall of the vault of Henry VIII. The coffin bore 
the inscription, " King Charles, 1648." Sir Henry Halford examined 
the body in the presence of the royal family, and has given to the 
world an interesting account of the examination. 

These are declared to be two of the most successful instances of 
posthumous preservation. In other embalmed bodies there have been 
very different results. The coffin of Henry VIII. was inspected at the 
same time with that of Charles, and found to contain nothing but the 
mere skeleton of the king. During the present century the sarcopha- 
gus of King John has also been examined : it contained little else 
than a disorganized mass of earth. 

The rapidity with which decomposition takes place in organic 
bodies, depends upon the particular circumstances under which they 
are placed. A certain temperature and a certain degree of moisture 
are indispensable agents in the common process of putrefaction ; and 
could these be avoided in the habitable parts of our globe, human 
bodies might last indefinitely. Where a great degree of cold exists, it 
tends powerfully to check the process of destructive fermentation ; and 
when it extends so far as to produce congelation, its protecting power 
is complete. Bodies of men have been found in a state of perfect 
preservation amongst the snows of the Andes and Alps ; and an ele- 
phant of an extinct species was found in 1806, imbedded in an ice- 
rock of the polar sea, having been first seen in this position in 1799. 
It required five summers to melt the ice so that the entire body could 
be liberated. These facts are sufficient to show that a low degree of 
temperature is an effectual preventive of animal decomposition. On 
the other hand, a certain degree of heat, combined with a dry atmo- 



32 MOUNT AUBUItN ILLUSTRATED. 

sphere, although a less perfect protection, is sufficient to check the 
destructive process. Warmth, combined with moisture, tends greatly 
to promote decomposition ; yet if the degree of heat, or the circum- 
stances under which it acts, are such as to produce a perfect dissipa- 
tion of moisture, the further progress of decay is arrested. In the arid 
caverns of Egypt, the dried flesh of mummies, although greatly changed 
from its original appearance, has made no progress towards ultimate 
decomposition, during two or three thousand years. 

"In the crypt under the cathedral of Milan, travellers are shown 
the ghastly relics of Carlo Borromeo, as they have lain for two centu- 
ries, enclosed in a crystal sarcophagus, and bedecked with costly finery 
of silk and gold. The preservation of this body is equal to that of an 
Egyptian mummy ; yet a more loathsome piece of mockery than it ex- 
hibits can hardly be imagined. 

" It will be perceived that the instances which have been detailed, 
are cases of extraordinary exemption, resulting from uncommon care, 
or from the most favorable combination of circumstances, — such as 
can befall but an exceedingly small portion of the human race. The 
common fate of animal bodies is to undergo the entire destruction of 
their fabric, and the obliteration of their living features in a few years, 
and sometimes even weeks, after their death. No sooner does life 
cease, than the elements which constituted the vital body become sub- 
ject to the common laws of inert matter. The original affinities, 
which had been modified or suspended during life, are brought into 
operation ; the elementary atoms react upon each other ; the organ- 
ized structure passes into decay, and is converted into its original 
dust. Such is the natural, and we may add, the proper destination of 
the material part of all that has once moved and breathed. 



INTERMENT OP THE DEAD. 33 

" The reflections which naturally suggest themselves, in contempla- 
ting the wrecks of humanity which have occasionally been brought to 
light, are such as to lead us to ask, — Of what possible use is a resist- 
ance to the laws of nature, which, when most successfully executed, 
can at best only preserve a defaced and degraded image of what was 
once perfect and beautiful ? Could we by any means arrest the pro- 
gress of decay, so as to gather round us the dead of a hundred gener- 
ations in a visible and tangible shape ; could we fill our houses and 
our streets with mummies, — what possible acquisition could be more 
useless — what custom could be more revolting I For precisely the 
same reason, the subterranean vaults and the walls of brick, which we 
construct to divide the clay of humanity from that of the rest of crea- 
tion, and to preserve it separate for a time, as it were, for future in- 
spection, are neither useful, gratifying, nor ultimately effectual. Could 
the individuals themselves, who are to be the subjects of this care, 
have the power to regulate the officious zeal of their survivors, one of 
the last things they could reasonably desire would be, that the light 
should ever shine on their changed and crumbling: relics. 

" On the other hand, when nature is permitted to take her course — 
when the dead are committed to the earth under the open sky, to be- 
come early and peacefully blended with their original dust, no unpleas- 
ant association remains. It would seem as if the forbidding and 
repulsive conditions which attend on decay, were merged and lost in 
the surrounding harmonies of the creation. 

" When the body of Major Andre was taken up, a few years since, 
from the place of its interment near the Hudson, for the purpose of 
being removed to England, it was found that the skull of that officer 
was closely encircled by a network formed by the roots of a smal 



34 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

tree, which had been plauted near his head. This is a natural and 
most beautiful coincidence. It would seem as if a faithful sentinel 
had taken his post, to watch till the obliterated ashes should no longer 
need a friend. Could we associate with inanimate clay any of the 
feelings of sentient beings, who would not wish to rescue his remains 
from the prisons of mankind, and commit them thus to the embrace of 
nature I 

" Convenience, health, and decency require that the dead should be 
early removed from our sight. The law of nature ordains that they 
should moulder into dust ; and the sooner this change is accomplished 
the better. This change should take place, not in the immediate con- 
tiguity of survivors, — not in frequented receptacles, provided for the 
promiscuous concentration of numbers, — not where the intruding light 
may annually usher in a new tenant, to encroach upon the old. It 
should take place peacefully, silently, separately — in the retired valley 
or the sequestered wood, where the soil continues its primitive exuber- 
ance, and where the earth has not become too costly to afford to each 
occupant at least his length and breadth. 

" Within the bounds of populous and growing cities, interments can- 
not with propriety take place beyond a hmited extent. The vacant 
tracts reserved for burial-grounds, and the cellars of churches which 
are converted into tombs, become glutted with inhabitants, and are in 
the end obliged to be abandoned, though not, perhaps, until the original 
tenants have been ejected, and the same space has been occupied 
three or four successive times. Necessity obliges a recourse at last to 
be had to the neighboring country ; and hence in Paris, London, Liv- 
erpool, Leghorn, and other Eu'^opean cities, cemeteries have been 
constructed without the confines of their population. These places, 



INTERMENT OF THE DEAD. 35 

in consequence of the sufficiency of the ground, and the funds which 
usually gi-ow out of such establishments, have been made the recipi- 
ents of tasteful ornament. Travellers are attracted by their beauty, 
and dwell with interest on their subsequent recollection. The scenes 
which, under most other circumstances, are repulsive and disgusting, 
are by the joint influence of nature and art rendered beautiful, at- 
tractive, and consoling." 

" We regard the relics of our deceased friends and kindred for 
what they have been, and not for what they are. We cannot keep in 
our presence the degraded image of the original frame ; and if some 
memorial is necessary to soothe the unsatisfied want which we feel 
when bereaved of their presence, it must be found in contemplating 
the place in which we know their dust is hidden. The history of 
mankind in all ages, shows that the human heart clings to the grave 
of its disappointed wishes, — that it seeks consolation in rearing em- 
blems and monuments, and in collecting images of beauty over the 
disappearing relics of humanity. This can be fitly done, not in the 
tumultuous and harassing din of cities, — not in the gloomy and almost 
unapproachable vaults of charnel-houses, — but amidst the quiet ver- 
dure of the field, under the broad and cheerful light of heaven, where 
the harmonious and ever-changing face of nature reminds us, by its 
resuscitating influences, that to die is but to five again." 



THE CHAPEL. 



" For the departed soul they raise 
A requiem sad, a psalm of praise." 

[McLeli.an. 

" How full of consolation here may be 
The voice of him, whose office 'tis to give 
'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.' " 

[PlERPONT. 



In a spot consecrated to so holy a purpose as Mount Auburn, the 
propriety of a structure in which the last services may be performed 
over the dead, strikes the mind at once ; and vi^ith some denominations 
of Christians, is almost of absolute necessity. Amongst Episcopalians, 
for instance, the corpse is carried before the mourners, and preceded 
by the minister, who is required to read the burial service, " either en- 
tering the church or going towards the grave." Individuals of other 
sects, who have lost friends by death, have a preference, sometimes, 
that the service should be performed on the ground of interment, 
rather than in their own houses, as is the common custom. These 
ceremonies, in favorable weather, have been performed in the open 



Ba 




THE CHAPEL. 37 

air, when a peculiar solemnity has been imparted to them ; but in in- 
clement seasons, it is evident that such church requirements or personal 
feelings could not be gratified. The erection of a chapel at Mount 
Auburn would, it was known, obviate this difficulty, and be a gratifica- 
tion to sorrowing friends ; whilst such a building would also afford a 
suitable place for the reception of statues, busts, and other delicate 
pieces of sculpture, liable to injury from exposure to the weather. 
Within the past year such an edifice has been constructed. It is 
erected upon elevated ground, on the right of Central Avenue, not far ' 
from the entrance, and with its Gothic pinnacles pointing heaven- 
ward, forms a picturesque object, as a view of it is caught ever and 
anon from the various turnings. It is built of granite ; is 66 feet by 40 
in dimensions ; with its decorations mostly taken from the continental 
examples in France and Germany. The exterior is surrounded with 
octagonal buttresses and pinnacles, and the clerestory is supported by 
Gothic pillars. Care has been taken to produce a certain kind of 
lidit in the interior, mellow, solemn, most in consonance with the 
especial object of the edifice, and, at the same time, such as would 
pleasingly reflect upon statuary and other decorations of sculpture. 
With reference to these effects, the Hght has been admitted only from 
the ends of the building, and above from the clerestory. The win- 
dows are of colored glass; and as the broad mid-day light enters 
throuo-h them, it plays in prismatic hues upon the sombre columns and 
vaults, — relieves the gloom, — and reminds one by its radiance, as the 
bow in the clouds reminded Campbell, of the beautiflil forms of angel 
goodness following the thunder and the storm ; coming, not severe in 
wrath, but with a garment of brightness ; and bringing a blessed mem- 
ory of the power of that high and holy One who made both the light 



38 MOUNT AUBUriN ILLUSTRATED. 

and the darkness, — ordered life and death, mortality and immor- 
tality. 

In the head of the large nave window, is a beautiful allegorical de- 
sign, representing peaceful death. It consists of a winged female 
figure asleep, and floating in the clouds, bearing in her arms two sleep- 
ing infants. The babes in the sweet repose of the mother's breast, 
and the whole ascending group in that sleep which indicates the loos- 
ening of the silver cord, forms a beautiful design, imperceptibly leading 
the beholder to sympathize with the mother's spirit, peacefxilly dream- 
ing, as it were, in the words of Mrs. Hemans, — 

" Free, free from earlh-born fear, 
I would range the blessed skies, 
Through the blue divinely clear. 
Where the low mists cannot rise." 

The outline of this design is taken mainly from Thorwaldsen's cele- 
brated bas-relief of " Night," and well recalls the reunion of parents 
and children in their final rest. In the centre of the rose-window 
which forms a conspicuous part of the front, is a painted design em- 
blematic of immortality, consisting of two cherubs from Raphael's Ma- 
donna di San Sisto, gazing upwards with their well-known expression 
of adoration and love, into what, in this instance, is a light or " glory," 
proceeding from beyond the picture. These windows have been 
made under the direction of Mr. Hay of Edinburgh, author of several 
philosophic treatises on the harmony of colors. They are executed 
by Messrs. Ballantyne and Allan, the artists who have been lately se- 
lected, by the commissioners on the fine arts, to make the windows for 
the new Houses of Parliament in London. The entire cost of the 



THE CHAPEL. 39 

chapel has heen ahout S25,000 ; nearly a third of which sum was ob- 
tained by subscription. 

We know not any domain (except it be the great world itself) that 
can better show forth the connection existing between taste and 
morals, than the various surface of a rural burial-place. The cultiva- 
tion of the fine arts may there be exhibited in a genuine spirit of 
beauty and of purity ; and floriculture can be made lovingly to " tes- 
selate the floor of nature's temple." The poet there may gain new 
perceptions of truth and beauty from varied forms and shapes of be- 
ing ; and the writer of epitaphs, even, can exhibit the value of his 
occasional and unappreciated vocation, in the ability with which the 
judiciously written though brief inscription, may indicate the great 
Christian hope, and point to that life beyond the present, where the 
friends who are lost to us in this world enter upon a nobler existence. 
Thus it is seen that taste, whether exhibited in flower-crowned 
mounds, or in the chaste and classic monument, may exist in a rural 
cemetery, in close connection with morals ; and it is no less true, tliat 
every pure ideal of religion and virtue grows in beauty by the food 
upon which it feeds. In this way a progress towards excellence is at- 
tained, and the rural burying-place becomes the means to a great end. 
The resting-place of the dead, in this view, may be said to be as a 
city, "whose foundations are garnished with all manner of precious 
stones, whose streets are of pure gold, and whose gates are of pearl." 



THE MONUMENT TO SPURZHEIM. 



" Land of the golden vine, 
Land of the lordly Rhine, 
Weep, distant land ! 
Weep for your son who came 
Hither in Learning's name, 
Bearing her sacred flame 
In his pure hand." 

[McLellan 



The monument to Spurzheim is a copy of that of Scipio Africanus 
at Rome, and is the first which meets the eye whilst advancing into 
the cemetery from the main avenue. The simple name is the only 
record which it bears, — all other inscription or epitaph being left to 
the hand of fame, or to the suggestive imagination and peculiar feel- 
ings of such as may visit the shades where rest the remains of an 
energetic and hopeful foreigner. 

John Caspar Spurzheim was born in December, 1776, at Longvick, 
a village on the Moselle, about seven miles from the city of Treves, in 
the lower circle of the Rhine. He studied medicine at Vicuna, and 
becoming a pupil of the celebrated Dr. Gall, almost outdid his teacher 
in his enthusiasm for the science (so called) of Phrenology. In 1S05 



THE MONUMENT TO SPURZHEIM. 41 

he uudertook, with his master, a course of travels through various 
parts of central Europe, to disseminate phrenological doctrines, and to 
examine the heads of criminals and others in the public institutions. 
Some of these examinations are said to have been very remarkable in 
their results ; and notwithstanding the ojjposition of the great Cuvier, 
these two sanguine associates were successful in leading a multitude 
of individuals to place full reliance in the possibility of ascertaining 
the intellectual and moral traits of man and animals, from the config- 
uration of their heads. Dr. Spurzheim pursued his travels also in 
England, Scotland, and France, the grand themes of his discourses 
being the anatomy, physiology, and pathology of the brain. As an 
anatomical investigator of the brain, his skill is universally acknowl- 
edged ; and in the development of the structure of this organ, his re- 
searches have been of much benefit to science. In 1821, he took up 
his residence in Paris, believing that in that vast city he should meet 
with the best opportunities of teaching his doctrines to students from 
all parts of the world. His lectures, however, were prohibited by, the 
French government; and in 1825 he passed over to London, where 
he published various works in connection with the peculiar subject of 
his favorite investigations, and also upon the functions of the nervous 
system. He visited the principal cities of England and Scotland, and 
gained converts to his doctrines in almost all of them. The propaga- 
tors of new opinions rarely fail to find supporters ; and the more inge- 
nious the theory — the more fascinating the manner of the expounder, 
the more enthusiastic and stubborn are the proselytes who assume the 
defence. Time at length presents the touchstone of immortal truth ; 
and though it sometimes takes years to apply the test, yet delusion 
sooner or later subsides, where there is no foundation for its contin- 



42 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

uance. At the present epoch, the confidence once placed in the doc- 
trines of the phrenologists appears to have much ahated. Pure science 
has fixed laws which are ever true ; and there is a wide gulf between 
absolutely practical knowledge, and that belief which proceeds from 
unsubstantiated theory. The industry and zeal of Spurzhcim might 
undoubtedly have been more subservient to the good of mankind, had 
they been applied to some other study than phrenology. 

In 1832, the indefatigable pupil of Gall determined to try a new 
field of labor, and he therefore sailed from Havre for the United 
States. He came to this country, it is said, with a tAvofoId purpose : 
to study the genius and character of our people, and to propagate the 
doctrines of phrenology. His career in America is too well remem- 
bered to require any prolixity of detail in these pages. He w^as em- 
phatically an enthusiast, and undeniably an indefatigable student ; he 
was urbane in his social deportment ; kind to his friends and charita- 
ble to his opponents ; liberal toAvards the views of others, and benev- 
olent to the whole family of man. He was a Christian in his faith 
and hopes ; and here he was humble-minded, as the sincere believer, 
the faithful hoper should ever be. Professor FoUen says of him, that 
"whatever particular form of faith he may have preferred, he firmly 
believed in the essential truths of natural and revealed religion. He 
adopted Christianity as a divine system, chiefly on the ground of its 
great internal evidence, its perfect adaptation to human nature, and the 
spirit of truth and divine philanthropy which gives life to all its pre- 
cepts. All morality, he thought, was contained in these two precepts. 
— ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, and thy neighbor as thyself 
All prayers, he thought, were comprised in this one, — Father, thy will 
he done.' " 



THE MONUMENT TO SPURZHEIM. 43 

Whilst in Boston, lie tasked himself severely in public lectures be 
fore schools and societies ; and the value of his remarks upon that 
important topic, "physical education," are gratefully admitted. His 
great intellectual efforts, together with the effects of our climate, umcli 
impaired his heaUh. He became sick with fever ; medical advice was 
unavailing; and he breathed his last on the 10th of November, 1832. 
The Boston Medical Association as a body, and a voluntary procession 
of citizens, escorted his remains from the old South Church, where the 
burial-service was performed, to the cemetery of Park-street Church, 
where they were deposited until the tomb at Mount Auburn could be 
prepared. The monument which the engraving delineates, was the 
result of a movement amongst the friends of the deceased, who ad- 
mired him as a man and a lecturer, irrespectively of his peculiar 
tenets ; but the expense was eventually defrayed by the liberality of 
the Hon. Wm. Sturgis of Boston. America's tribute to this native of 
the old world, in the language of one of his biographers, is thus "a 
grave and a monument." 



THE LOWELL MONUMENT. 



" And, as his body lies enshrined in the bosom of his mother earth, we can say, in the lulness of 
our hearts, Peace to his slumbers. He needs no monument to perpetuate his memory ; 

' His monument shall be his name alone.' " 

[Anontmodb. 



The imposing monumental structure, which the engraving accu- 
rately represents, is constructed of granite, and stands in Willow 
Avenue. The name of " Lowell" is carved, in raised letters, upon 
its front, and is never read by the wanderers from the city and its ad- 
jacent regions, without a feeling of pride, in the memories which it 
brings up of a generation of eminent men, — benefactors to New Eng- 
land, whether regarded as enterprising merchants, lawyers, or lovers 
of science and literature. Our neighboring town of Lowell, cele- 
brated for its manufactures, received its name in honor of the late 
Francis C. Lowell, Esq., of Boston, one of the first who introduced 
that magnificent enterprise, the manufacture of cotton, into the United 
States. The " Lowell Institute," that fostering foundation for the at- 



THE LOWELL MONUMENT. 45 

taiiiment and diffusion of scientific knowledge, bears the name of its 
munificent founder, — the late John Lowell, Jr., (son of Francis C. 
Lowell,) — and is an estabhshment which, in its conception and design, 
has no parallel, either in our own country or in Europe. " The idea 
of a foundation of this kind," says Edward Everett, "on which, un- 
connected with any place of education, provision is made, in the midst 
of a large commercial population, for annual courses of instruction by 
public lectures, to be delivered gratuitously to all who choose to attend 
them, as far as is practicable within our largest hall, is, I believe, origi- 
nal with Mr. Lowell." 

The monument to which we have thus alluded, was erected by the 
executors of the late John Lowell, Jr., to the memory of his wife, an 
amiable and accomplished woman, who died a few years after their 
marriage, and of his two daughters, his only children, who did not 
long survive their mother. The monument bears this simple inscrip- 
tion : — 

ERECTED 

BY ORDER OF 

JOHN LOWELL, Jr., 

IN MEMORY OF 

HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN, 



TESTIMONIAL OF THEIR VIRTUES, 



HIS AFFECTIONATE REMEMBRANCE. . 



46 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

Mr. John Lowell, Jr., the son of Francis C. Lowell, Esq., who is 
still freshly remembered amongst us, as one of those who have re- 
flected high honor on the character of the "American merchant," was 
also the grandson of the late Judge Lowell, whose father, the Rev. 
John Lowell, was the first minister at Newburyport. He " was among 
those," says Mr. Everett, " who enjoyed the public trust and confidence 
in the times which tried men's souls, and bore his part in the greatest 
work recorded in the annals of constitutional liberty — the American 
Revolution." 

Mr. John Lowell, Jr., was born on the 11th of May, 1799, and was 
indebted both to his own country and to England, for the diversified 
education he received. In early life, he had accompanied his father 
in extensive travels ; and he seems to have explored thoroughly the 
most interesting sections of the Old World. The renowned East had 
charms for his young ambition, and excited many enterprising plans 
for future research and discovery. 

After the occurrence, in 1830-31, of the afiflictive domestic events 
to which we have before referred, Mr. Lowell's love of foreign travel 
revived ; and he quitted his native land in 1832, with the intention of 
spending some years abroad. He first visited Great Britain, France, 
Central and Southern Europe, and then crossed from Smyrna to Alex- 
andria. That section of the East, celebrated as the "land of the 
Pharaohs," the primitive cradle of the early arts, possessed peculiar 
charms for his inquiring niiud ; — but his travels in that country proved 
fatal to his health. Disease assailed him ; and an illness occasioned 
by exposure and fatigue on his tonr through the East, terminated his 
valuable life at Bombay, where a simple monument marks his rest- 
ing-place. Had he lived, it was his intention to have himself erected 



THE LOWELL MONUMENT. 47 

the monument at Mount Auburn ; but, unfortunately, be left no design 
for such a structure, and it thus became the duty of others, faithfully 
to carry out his wishes. 

We have spoken of Mr. Lowell as the founder of the " Loicdl In- 
stitute ;" and it was in Egypt that he devised the establishment which 
bears his name, and bequeathed the munificent sum of $250,000 to 
carry his desires into execution. The object of this splendid bequest, 
was the "maintenance and support of public lectures, to be delivered 
in Boston, upon philosophy, natural history, the arts and sciences, or 
any of them, as the trustee shall, from time to time, deem expedient 
for the promotion of the moral, and intellectual, and physical instruc- 
tion or education of the citizens of Boston." A codicil to this Avill 
gives directions for the furtherance of his design, as follows : — 

"As the most certain and the most important part of true philoso- 
phy, appears to me to be that which shows the connection between 
God's revelations, and the knowledge of good and evil implanted by 
him in our nature, I wish a course of lectures to be given on natural 
religion, showing its conformity to that of our Saviour." 

" For the more perfect demonstration of the truth of those moral 
and religious precepts, by which alone, as I believe, men can be secure 
of happiness in this world and that to come, I wish a course of lec- 
tures to be delivered on the historical and internal evidences in favor 
of Christianity. I wish all disputed points of faith and ceremony to 
be avoided ; and the attention of the lecturers to be directed to the 
moral doctrines of the gospel, — stating their opinion, if they will, hut 
not engaging in controversy, even on the subject of the penalty of dis- 
obedience." 

"As the prosperity of my native land, New England, which is sterile 



48 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

and iiii])ro(.luctivp, must depend hereafter, as it has heretofore de- 
pended, first, on the moral qualities, and, second, on the intelligence 
and information of its inhabitants, I am desirous of trying to con- 
tribute towards this second object also ; and I wish courses of lectures 
to be established on physics and chemistry, with their application to 
the arts ; also, on botany, zoology, geology, and mineralogy, connected 
with their particular utility to man." 

"After the establishment of these courses of lectures, should dispo- 
sable funds remain, or, in process of time, be accumulated, the trustee 
may appoint courses of lectures to be delivered on the literature and 
eloquence of our language, and even on those of foreign nations, if he 
see fit. He may also, from time to time, establish lectures on any sub- 
ject that, in his opinion, the wants and tastes of the age may de- 
mand." 

"As infidel opinions appear to me injurious to society, and easily to 
insinuate themselves into a man's dissertations on any subject, how- 
ever remote from religion, no man ought to be appointed a lecturer, 
who is not willing to declare, and who does not previously declare, his 
belief in the divine revelation of the Old and New Testaments, leav- 
ing the interpretation thereof to his own conscience." 

The above extract from that part of Mr. Lowell's will which relates 
to this prominent bequest, at once develops his whole character as a 
Christian, a philanthropist, and a scholar, and reflects more honor 
upon him than whole volumes of biography. 

The first lecture of the Lowell Institute was delivered in the Boston 
Odeon, (formerly the Federal-street Theatre,) on the 31st of Decem- 
ber, 1839. It was an introductory lecture, — being very properly a 
memoir of its founder, — and was delivered by the Hon. Edward Ev- 



THE LOWELL MONUMENT. 49 

erett. From that time to the present, the will of the testator has been 
strictly carried out. Five courses of lectures have been delivered on 
Natural Religion ; four, on the Evidences of Christianity ; five, on 
Geology ; four, on Botany ; three, on Astronomy ; and three, on Chem- 
istry : one course has been given upon Electricity and Electro-mag- 
netism ; one course, on Comparative Anatomy ; one course, on the 
Mechanical Laws of Matter ; one course, on American Historv ; one 
course, on Ancient Egypt ; one course, on Optics ; one course, on 
Architecture ; one course, on the Military Art ; one course, on the 
Plan of Creation, as shown in the Animal Kingdom ; and one course, 
on the Life and Writings of Milton. Each course has consisted of 
twelve lectures ; and these have been given in the evening, whilst the 
majority have been repeated in the afternoon, for the better accommo- 
dation of the public, — tickets being issued for separate courses. The 
whole number of tickets issued up to the present time, has been 
162,309 ; whilst the number of those who have applied for them has 
been 198,658. The whole number of lectures has been 370. 

And now, in view of these brief statistics, will it be presumptuous 
to ask, — Who can tell or foresee the consequences of these gratuitous 
lectures 1 One fact, illustrated and proved in science, philosophy, re- 
ligion, or letters, may excite a curiosity and spirit of investigation, 
which shall arouse dormant intellect, and add another to the proud list 
of the world's benefactors. The spirit of investigation — that prying 
curiosity which spurs man on to energetic action, or involves him in 
deep and studious contemplation — has perhaps bestowed more benefits 
on mankind, than the most brilliant gifts of genius. How little did 
the Pharsalian rustic, when he detected the electric power of amber, 

think that the little spark which he produced from it, was, in every 
7 



so MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

respect but intensity, the same power which cleft the oak that over- 
shadowed him ; and he who first noted the phenomena of the load- 
stone, how little did he anticipate the consequences of the discovery ! 
Hundreds of philosophers had passed by, unheeded, the hints of two 
obscure men respecting the motion of the earth, — but the investigating 
spirit of Copernicus found in them the germs of his immortality. 

It is thus that wc arc indebted to patient research, for so much that 
conduces to knowledge and comfort. But Curiosity must be fust ex- 
cited ; and where is that lever to be applied, tliat spirit roused, with so 
much hope of the future, as in the lecture-room of the Lowell In- 
stitute ? — an establishment which can afford amply to remunerate the 
most profound of our scientific men, the most competent of our theo- 
logians and men of letters, — where so many minds, of such variety, 
capacity, and proclivity, are brought together, "without money and 
without price," to learn truths in morals, the arts, science, and natural 
philosophy. Curiosity once excited, who shall declare the limit of its 
researches ? In the language of that great projector, who pointed the 
wealth of a vast and once almost inaccessible i"egion, into the bosom 
of the powerful commercial mart of the north, and who well knew 
the omnipotence of knowledge, — " It feels no danger, it spares no ex- 
pense, it omits no exertion. It scales the mountain — looks into the 
volcano — dives into the ocean — perforates the earth — wings its flight 
into the skies — enriches the globe — explores sea and land — contem- 
plates the distant — examines the minute — comprehends the great — as- 
cends to the sublime. No place is too remote for its grasp ; no heav- 
ens too exalted for its research." It was this noble curiosity which 
held the torch that lighted Newton through the skies; and it is the 
same spirit that has unlocked the caskets which contained so many 



THE LOWELL MONUMENT. 51 

secrets in mechanics — facilitating the progress of so many useful arts, 
and reducing to practical reality so many theories that would, less 
than a century ago, have been pronounced the dreams of delirium, — 
the application of steam-power, and the practicability of the magnetic 
telegraph, being the latest examples. "Knowledge is power;" and, 
although the paths which lead to it may be rough and troublesome, 
they lead us to pure fountains and healthful eminences. He whose 
munificence, in 1839, enabled the citizens of Boston to avail them- 
selves of a lecture-room, where they might not only gain knowledge, 
but become avaricious of more, may emphatically be called one of the 
world's benefactors. By his philanthropic will, as we have shown, he 
not only pointed out a way of gaining pure scientific knowledge, but 
he expressly declared, also, that some portion of the lecture season 
should be devoted to the dispensing of religious truths — those enno- 
bling doctrines which bind man to man, and man to his Creator. He 
did not forget the paramount importance of moral excellence ; and he 
left a fortune to insure the labor of the good of after years, in giving 
the great principles of the Gospel fixedness in the heart of man, and 
a greater range to high moral feelings. 

In the eloquent language of Edward Everett, therefore, "let the 
foundation of Mr. Lowell stand on the principles prescribed by him ; 
let the fidelity with which it is now administered, continue to direct 
it ; and no language is emphatic enough to do full justice to its im- 
portance. It will be, from generation to generation, a perennial 
source of public good — a dispensation of sound science, of useful 
knowledge, of truth in its most important associations with the destiny 
of man." 



THE MONUMENT 



JVOAH WORCESTER, 



" Oar birth is bat a starting-place ; 
Life is the running of the race, 

And death the goal : 
There all our steps at last are brought ; 
That path alone of all unsought, 
Is found of all." 

[Translation from Manrtgue. 



We love to wander through a cemetery. Every monument that we 
pass calls up a recollection ; the heart dilates and the mind expands, 
as reflection pursues her way, and whilst judgment sums up the value 
of a moral, well-directed life. It was nearing sunset when, in our 
meditations at Mount Auburn, we passed the grave of Worcester — 
the exemplary divine — the friend of humanity! The hour itself mel- 
lowed our thoughts, as we trod upon the greensward which covered 
the venerable dead ; and the quiet of all things around us seemed pe- 
culiarly appropriate to our happy recollections of this "friend of 
peace." Above us, the beautiful clouds, just tinged with the glow of 



WORCESTER'S MONUMENT. 53 

sunset, appeared to be as soft and lovely as the memories of those who 
had departed life in serenity and hope ; and, in the language of an 
eloquent writer, "the gorgeous pile of clouds towards which they 
were moving, seemed to teach us that sorrow for the loss of those we 
loved, should be swallowed up in the bright hope of a reunion ; the 
changing clouds, now purple and now crimson, appeared as if mocking 
at the works of mortal hands ; but the calm serenity of the east, from 
which all clouds had passed away, seemed as if preparing for a 
brighter and a purer dawn. As all those vapors crowding to the west, 
increased the glory of the sunset hour, so trials sustained, and tempta- 
tions overcome, add lustre to the departure of the pious, — even the 
shadows deepening around, speak of peace and calm, and please rather 
than chill the sensibilities." 

Noah Worcester had his trials; but he passed through them as 
" gold through the refiner's fire." Neither poverty nor illness checked 
his efforts for self-improvement, or the elevation of his kind ; his de- 
votion to the good of humanity and the cause of freedom was, like that 
of the great Channiug, both high and holy ; and he died, as he had 
lived, the " friend of peace," receiving the reverence and praises of 
mankind, and the gratitude of the ministry amongst whom he was a 
brother and a friend. " Beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of 
him that briugeth glad tidings — that publisheth peace." With a full 
conviction of the purity and truth of the quotation, he sought to do 
his part in proclaiming the propriety of that peace which is the oppo- 
site of war; and beautiful were his footsteps, as he walked in his self- 
appointed path, humbly showing forth the philosophy of his simple 
doctrines. 

And who would not muse near such a monument ? The changes 



64 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

and chances of human life are strongly and curiously woven tog;ether 
in the career of Noah Worcester ; and we cannot ^o over his biogra- 
phy, without seeing that the web of life is indeed a mingled tissue. 
At the breaking out of the Revolutionary war, and when a lad of 
about seventeen, he joined the army as a fifer. Afterwards, (in 1777,) 
he became fife-major, maintaining this latter office for two months ; 
and then, disgusted with warlike service, he quitted the camp to teach 
a village school — very inadequately prepared, however, for such a 
duty. At this time, he was deficient in the art of writing, and had 
never seen a dictionary. Both in writing and spelling, he was com- 
pelled to educate himself, and he did this effectually ; although, like so 
many before and since his time, he had fallen in love, and had deter- 
mined on matrimony. At the age of twenty-one, he had married an 
interesting and capable girl, and had "settled himself down," as he 
thought, as a small farmer in Plymouth, N. H. Thus far, his Ufe 
hardly promised any great results ; and his education certainly forbade 
any expectations of the works which followed. He had a pious 
mind, however, and a firm religious belief, — that which Sir Humphrey 
Davy has called the "greatest of earthly blessings." It was this 
which made his life " a discipline of goodness ; created new hopes 
when all other hopes vanished ; and called up beauty and divinity 
from corruption and decay." 

In 1782, he was a resident of the town of Thornton, where, to 
support his increasing family, he worked at the lapstone, and cogitated 
upon those doctrines of faith, which afterwards led him to write down 
his thoughts — to print and publish. In 178C, he had been examined 
for the ministry ; and was speedily ordained over a church in Thorn- 
ton, having previously served in many public trusts, — been schoolmas- 



WORCESTER'S MONUMENT. 55 

ter, selectman, town-clerk, justice of the peace, and representative to 
the general court. For twenty-three years he continued rector of 
this church, studying to improve himself all the while in useful knowl- 
edge, and giving deep attention to the examination of theological 
points. 

He always read and studied with his pen in hand ; and was enabled 
in this way to preserve many valuable original observations and 
deductions, and to stamp in his memory whatever was worth being 
preserved in its archives. He was the first missionary of New 
Hampshire — in himself a beloved auxiliary of the gospel cause, and a 
faithful teacher throughout all the northern towns of that state. In 
1809, we find him rector of a church in Salisbury, N. H. — a town 
now famed as the birthplace of Daniel Webster, and where Mr. Wor- 
cester expounded his own views of Christianity as fearlessly and 
nobly, as that great statesman has defended the Constitution of his 
country at Washington. And now he began to be known to the 
world, and to take his place in theological history. Being brought up 
a Calvinist, he changed his views from conviction of error ; he wrote 
a publication showing his reasons of disbelief in the doctrine of the 
Trinity; and afterwards published his "Letters to Trinitarians," "a 
work," says the lamented Channing, "breathing the very spirit of the 
Saviour, and intended to teach, that diversities of opinions on subjects 
the most mysterious and perplexing, ought not to sever friends, to dis- 
solve the Christian tie, or to divide the church." From this moment, 
the intellectual life of this good man assumes an intense interest; he 
was developing more and more the action of a devout and inquisitive 
mind, and amiably and manfully striving to avoid that dangerous 
quicksand — the arrogance of sectarianism. 



56 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

Dr. Ware says of him, that "with the profound consciousness of 
truth, he came out from his anxiety, his studies, his controversies, and 
his sorrows, with a liberality as wide as Christendom, and a modesty 
as gentle as his love of truth was strong." But now he was to assume 
other duties; and, at the instigation of his friends, the late Drs. Chan- 
ning, Tuckerman, and Thacher, and the present Dr. Lowell, he re- 
moved to Brighton, Mass., in 1813, and commenced editing a new 
religious periodical, entitled " The Christian Disciple." He gathered 
around him here, a delightful circle of friends, and realized in them 
the true enjoyment of high culture and elevated purpose. This work 
was the advocate of Christian liberty and charity, and has now be- 
come merged in that well-sustained Unitarian periodical, the " Chris- 
tian Examiner." His thoughts became more and more devoted to the 
cause of freedom ; and he sought to analyze the subject of War, 
whether as opposed to, or agreeing with, the doctrines of the Scrip- 
tures. The following passage explains his views upon this great 
theme, as interesting to us now, as it could possibly have been at the 
time of writing : 

" I can say with the greatest truth, that I am unacquainted with any 
errors which have been adopted by any sect of Christians, which ap- 
pear to me more evidential of a depraved heart, than those which 
sanction war, and dispose men to glory in slaughtering one another. 
If a man, apparently of good character, avows a belief that human 
infants are not by nature totally sinful, there are a multitude of 
churches who would refuse to admit him to their fellowship. Yet 
another man, who believes in the doctrine of total sinfulness by na- 
ture, may perhaps be admitted to their communion, with his hands 
reeking with the blood of many brethren, whom he has wantonly 



WORCESTER'S MONUMENT. 57 

slain in the games of war, and this, too, while he justifies those fash- 
ionable murders !" Following out these principles, he " gave vent to 
his whole soul," says Dr. Ware, " in that remarkable tract, A Solemn 
Review of the Custom of War, — one of the most successful and efficient 
pamphlets of any period." The publication of this production was 
followed by the formation of the Massachusetts Peace Society, and by 
the commencement of a quarterly issue, called " The Friend of Peace." 
This he continued for ten years, being almost its only contributor, — 
but so managing to vary the illustrations of his subjects, as to make 
the articles appear as if written by different individuals — a tact as un- 
common as admirable, and most abundantly proving both the ardent 
zeal which he brought to the subject, and the great versatihty of his 
powers of thought. 

He was in heart and deed a philanthropist. The subject of slavery 
occupied his mind, in connection with other topics immediately con- 
cerning the good of humanity; but his last days were devoted espe- 
cially to religious investigations, and he prepared two theological 
works. The "Atonement" was the subject of one, and "Human De- 
pravity" of the other. He wrote diffusely, but yet with clearness ; 
and in the resources of his thoughtful mind, he found the material for 
happy occupation. Dr. Channing, in his remarks upon the life and 
character of Dr. Worcester, has said : " I am always happy to express 
my obligations to the benefactors of my mind ; and I owe it to Dr. 
Worcester to say, that my acquaintance with him gave me clearer 
comprehension of the spirit of Christ, and of the dignity of a 

man." 

Physical suffering exhausted this venerable man towards the close 
of life ; but it had the effect to call forth those bright traits of his 



CENTRAL SQUARE. 



" Mighty shades, 
Waving their gorgeous tracery o'er the head, 
With tlie light melting through their high arcades, 
As through a piliar'd cloister's." 

[Mrs. Hemans. 



The ground represented in the engraving, and denominated " Cen- 
tral Square," was originally reserved as a situation for some future 
public monument. It is an excellent position for such design. Va- 
rious shady avenues open from this square ; and its immediate neigh- 
borhood seems to have been chosen by many individuals, as the site 
for their last resting-place. At present, the most conspicuous monu- 
ment near the square, is that erected to the memory of Miss Hannah 
Adams, who was not only a remarkably gifted woman, but was the 
first person buried in Mount Auburn. In the words of the poet, we 
may well say of this truly estimable individual, that, 

" Dear to the good, she died lamented." 



CENTRAL SQUARE. 61 

Miss Adains had passed tluougli life, indulging an intimate acquaint- 
ance with nature ; and the grove, the stream, the rock, the mountain- 
fastness — flowers, trees, and shrubs — each had their charms for one 
whose mind continually fostered an indwelling spirit of beauty. Rev- 
erence for all things which were " true, honest, and of good report," 
being a part of her character, she necessarily cherished a delight in 
the true and the beautiful ; whilst her propensity was to magnify the 
Creator of " every good and perfect gift," rather than to dwell upon 
the imperfections and weakness of finite man. It seemed meet, there- 
fore, that when she was called to yield up her existence, she should be 
buried on the breezy hill, among the wild flowers she had loved, and 
amidst a scene like some of those around her village home, where she 
had so often "drunk in the melody which the song-bird scatters," and 
filled her soul to overflowing with lofty communings. 

Miss Adams was a remarkable woman in this country, for the time 
in which she lived ; and her intellect alone would have entitled her to 
respect and veneration anywhere. She was almost entirely a self- 
cultivated person. In her youth, there were few advantages for female 
education ; and she deeply regretted the want she had felt of a proper 
and systematic intellectual training, through the means of such semi- 
naries of learning as were afterwards established for the progress of 
her sex. She has left an example, however, of what a strong and 
well-directed mind can accomplish, by assiduity and discipline, in de- 
spite of the accidental circumstances of time. In piety and virtue, 
faith and truth, she may well be an honorable pattern for the female 
youth of any generation. 

Miss Adams was born in Mcdfield, Mass., in 1755, and died in 
Brookline, Mass., in 1831 — being seventy-six years old. She was the 



62 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

author of several valuable contributions to the literature of the period 
in which she wrote, amongst which are her " Views of Religion," first 
published in 1784; "A History of New England," printed in 3 799; 
" The Truth and Excellence of the Christian Religion," published in 
1804; and her celebrated "History of the Jews," completed in 1812. 
The difficulties which beset her path as an author, are such as are 
conmion in the lives of writers, both before and since her day. Her 
inexperience in the " ways and means" of publishers ; her modesty 
and want of self-reliance, combined with her straitened circumstances, 
rendered her, in various instances, the dupe of individuals whom she 
employed as printers. She knew not hoio to make her har gains ; and 
it was not until she came to Boston, and was made acquainted with 
the late reverend and venerable Dr. Freeman, of King's Chapel, that 
she felt she had a friend to assist her properly in the business of pub- 
lication. She should, in justice, have realized a handsome sum from 
the sale of the above-named works ; but though they sold well, she 
had the toil of preparation and research, without receiving more than 
a paltry stipend, barely sufficient to supply her pressing necessities. 
In arranging with her publisher about her " Views of Religion," after 
procuring, herself, more than four hundred subscribers, all the compen- 
sation she was able to obtain, was only fifty books ; and for these she 
was left to find a sale, after the printer had received the whole of the 
subscription money. Nevertheless, her spirits retained their elastic 
power through the many struggles she was compelled to make, and 
whilst laboring with feeble health, and an impaired eyesight. 

The father of Miss Adams, although in easy circumstances at the 
time of her birth, afterwards met with pecuniary reverses, from which 
he never recovered : and as the clouds of adversity thickened, she felt 



CENTRAL SQUARE 63 

necessitated, in earlj years, to resort to various humble ways to obtain 
the means of subsistence. During tlie Revolutionary war, making 
lace, spinning, weaving, braiding straw, keeping school, were all tried 
in aid of her support ; and at the close of the war, when most of these 
resources, owing to contingent circumstances, became unavailing, she 
thought of her notes on religion and literature, (made in the interim 
of other avocations,) and she determined to enlarge them into books, 
— though she has been heard to say, that weaving lace with bobbins, 
was more profitable during the war, than writing books was after- 
wards. " It was despei-ation" to use her own language, " and not 
vanity, that induced me to publish." 

She was indebted to the very fact of her father's misfortunes, for 
that love of books which, aided by an inquiring mind, has served to 
make her, at this day, so much the worthy object of eulogy and re- 
membrance. Her father at one time embarked in the business of a 
country trader ; his store was an " omnium gatherum" of English and 
West India goods, drugs, and books. Fond of reading himself, he 
naturally directed the minds of his children to those unfailing sources 
of pleasure, profit, and recreation, which good books aftbrd ; he 
amassed quite a library for those times, and the volumes which were 
left upon his hands, after his failure in business, became the best boon 
which was afforded to his daughter. She often expressed her regret 
that she had read too much light literature ; though it may be doubt- 
ed, we think, whether a mind naturally of so sober and practical a 
character as was that of Miss Adams, was not benefited by the fancy 
reading in which she at one time indulged. It may have brightened 
her imagination, aided by her natural good sense, and it may have im- 
parted to a sombre cast of thought, something that may have been 



64 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

wanted of spirit and beauty. Her readings of the poets, certainly, 
were ever a source of happiness to her ; and when she enjoyed nature, 
it was much in the same spirit with Thomson and Cowper. " She 
culled the flowers, before she examined the forest-trees of literature." 

In the large and valuable libraries of her zealous young friend, the 
lamented Buckminster, and of her venerable admirer. President Adams 
of duincy, she gathered much knowledge, which, to her appreciating 
intellect, we doubt not, was " more precious than rubies." She knew, 
as Milton has expressed it, that "books are not absolutely dead things, 
but do contain a progeny of life in them, to be as active as the soul 
was, whose progeny they are — that they preserved, as in a vial, the 
purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them." 
She felt that " a good book is the precious life-blood of a master- 
spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life." 
She herself wrote nothing that, " dying, she would wish to blot ;" and 
although her works are not of great profundity, they were essentially 
useful at the time she wrote ; and even in these days, are worthy of 
reference. 

In about 1804-5, she removed to Boston, when, at the instance of 
some female friends, aided by several highly respectable gentlemen, a 
Hfe annuity was obtained for her, with which, and frequent acceptable 
presents from benevolent persons who appreciated her talents, and to 
whom she was much endeared for her unpretending deportment, gen- 
tleness, and modesty, she was enabled to pass the last days of her life 
iu ease and comfort. 

Miss Adams was a competent scholar in Greek and Latin, in which 
branches of a learned education she fitted several young men for col- 
lege although, when she commenced the pursuit of the dead Ian- 



CENTRAL SQUARE. 66 

guages, the world around her was inclined to laugh at her aspirations. 
She said herself, that she felt " as if she were drawing upon herself 
the ridicule of society !" Happily for us, those days are past. Though 
scarce a century has elapsed since the birth of Miss Adams, the neces- 
sity for cultivated female teachers is everywhere acknowledged ; nay, 
female education of a high order cannot be dispensed with ; the cul- 
ture of the mind is a positive demand. Every mother ought to be an 
intellectual and spiritual woman, that she may be able to encourage 
the development of the highest capacities of her children, and incite 
them to wisdom and virtue. 

Revered as a friend, honored for her integrity, admired for her va- 
ried acquisitions, respected for her piety, and cherished for the union 
of all these attributes of a pure and elevated character. Miss Adams 
passed to her final rest, receiving kindly sympathy and fostering care. 
She breathed her last in a pleasant house in Brookline, whither she 
had been removed, that she might enjoy the beauties of rural scenery, 
which she had ever loved, and have the advantage of sun and pros- 
pect. She had fully experienced, in her long life, the evanescent 
nature of all eartlily enjoyments ; and she " fell asleep," finally, real- 
izing that her soul's helper was the Omnipotent, and her best defence, 
the Rock of Ages. 

Her friends raised, by subscription, the monument to her memory, 
which bears the following inscription : 



66 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

TO 

HANNAH ADAMS, 

HISTORIAN OF THE JEWS, 

AND 

REVIEWER OF THE CHRISTIAN SECTS, 

2rt)fs iKonument (s erecteD, 

vt 

HER FEMALE FRIENDS. 



FIRST TENANT 

or 

MT. AUBURN: 

IBE DIED DECEMBER 15, 103], 

AoED 7G. 



HARVARD HILL. 



" His eyes diffused a venerable grace, 
And charity itself was in his face : 
Nothing reserved or sullen was to see, 
But sweet regards and pleasing sanctity ; 
Mild was his accent, and his action free. 
With eloquence innate his tongue was arm'd ; 
Though harsh the precept, yet the preacher charm'd. 
For, letting down the golden chain froni high, 
He drew his audience upward to the sky. 
He bore his great commission in his look. 
But sweetly temper'd awe, and eoften'd all he spoke." 



Amidst our meditative wanderings over Mount Auburn, we find 
that the same "consecrated mould" contains not only some of the 
greatest of our country's lawgivers, but some of the most eloquent of 
her divines, — men whose industry and genius have elevated them to 
conspicuous public stations. We have pondered, in the lowly vale, 
over the tomb of Story — and now we pass to the gentle eminence 
upon which is erected the monument to the memory of Kirkland — 
the urbane gentleman — the brilliant scholar — the gifted preacher — the 
profound moralist, — the late President of Harvard College. 

The spot where rest the remains of President Kirkland, has been 
appropriately designated as "Harvard Hill;" being a purchase by the 



70 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

Little Falls, on the Mohawk river, on the 17th of August, 1770. He 
was the son of the Rev. Samuel Kirkland, who devoted himself, w ith 
great energy and courage, to the work of a missionary to the Indians. 
His mother was an exemplary woman of good gifts intellectually, and 
one who thought it no hardship to repair, with her devoted husband, 
immediately upon her union, to an unfinished log-hut in the heart of 
an Indian village. She knew the perils to which they were liable ; 
but she encouraged a great hope for the success of her husband's 
labors, — and she was partly rewarded for her wife-like courage by 
receiving, in November, 1772, a considerate donation of fifty pounds 
sterling, from the society in Scotland for promoting Christian knowl- 
edge, to purchase a comfortable residence. 

" It is a singular and interesting fact," says Dr. Young, in his sermon 
on the death of Dr. Kirkland, " as well as a beautiful illustration of 
the spirit of American society, and of the practical working of our 
free institutions, that the son of a poor missionary on the outskirts of 
civilization, born in a log-cabin, nurtured in infancy among the sav- 
ages, and bred in childhood in a frontier village, with no advantages 
of fortune, and little aid from friends, rose, by the force of talent and 
merit alone, to the head of the first literary institution in our land. 
Such a fact as this is full of encouragement to the high-spirited and 
ambitious young men of our country. It shows them that the path of 
literary as well as political distinction is open to all, and that talent, 
effort, and moral worth are sure to be valued and rewarded." 

When the troubles of the war arose, it was not deemed safe for 
Mrs. Kirkland to remain amongst the Indians, especially as it was not 
known which side they would take in the conflict. The money from 
Scotland purchased, therefore, a small farm in Stockbridge, Mass., 



HARVARD HILL. 71 

whither this excellent wife and mother repaired, and where her son 
Jolin Thornton remained till he was sent to Andover, having pre- 
viously received from her the rudiments of his education. He re- 
mained here two years, when, with the patronage of a liberal friend, 
aided by his own exertions in keeping a school, he was admitted into 
Harvard University in 178G. 

In his Junior year, the famous Shay's Rebellion broke out; and, 
possessing a spirit of patriotism, and perhaps some love of adventure, 
he availed himself of a winter vacation to join the little band under 
Gen. Lincoln, formed for the purpose of quelling the insurrection. 
He performed his part as a soldier manfully ; and when the object of 
the struggle was honorably accomplished, he once more returned to 
the peaceful groves of Academus, and to the renewal of those studies 
which his principles of true patriotism had interrupted. 

Upon leaving the University, he became, for a brief period, an as- 
sistant in the Andover Academy. He was elected, subsequently. Tutor 
of Metaphysics in Harvard College ; and whilst engaged in this capa- 
city, he embraced Divinlti/ as his chosen profession, and zealously 
pursued his theological studies, until he was invited to become the 
pastor of the New South Church, upon the resignation of the Rev. 
Oliver Everett. On the 5tli of February, 1794, he received ordina- 
tion, and commenced a ministry which beautifully exemplified a 
knowledge of human nature and of Christian divinity, — a ministry 
which all who remember it, acknowledge as having exercised an im- 
portant influence upon the minds not only of his own people, but upon 
those of a large portion of the community. "From 1794 to 1810 — 
a pregnant period in our history — he exercised," says Dr. Young, " a 
moral control which can hardly be conceived of by those who did not 



72 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED 

live at that period, and wlio arc not acquainted with the feverisli and 
agitated state of the public mind that then existed, growing out of the 
peculiar state of the times. The minds of men needed to be instructed 
and tranquillized, and to be confirmed in the great fundamental prin- 
ciples of religion and morals. Dr. Kirkland addressed himself to this 
work with singular discretion and judgment, and bj his words of 
truth and soberness, in the pulpit and out of it, rendered a service to 
this community, which can now be hardly understood or estimated, 
but which ought never to be forgotten." 

In ethics, Dr. Kirkland particularly excelled ; he had acquired a 
knowledge of the human heart Avhich well prepared him for the work 
of a rigid moralist ; he made no parade of this intuitive knowledge of 
humanity — but it appeared continually in his hfe and in his writings; 
he would enforce a great truth with a power of rhetoric at once con- 
vincing and brilliant, and he would deal with facts with a logic so 
consummate, as absolutely to conceal the logician in the speaker of 
well-pointed truths. Spontaneity was a great element in his thinking 
and speaking. He seemed ever to express himself impromptu. " His 
conversation," says a reverend brother, " was a succession of aphor- 
isms, maxims, general remarks: his preaching was of the same char- 
acter with his conversation." It is related of Dr. Kirkland, that it 
was not uncommon with him to take into the pulpit half a dozen ser- 
mons or more, and whilst turning rapidly over their pages, to construct 
from the whole a new sermon as he went along, — doing this extempo- 
raneously, but with an impressive power, possessed by few if any in 
the same profession. Some persons have attributed this habit to indo- 
lence, and to procrastination in preparing a regular sermon on the 
week days. None found fault, however, with the instruction rendered 



HARVARD HILL. 73 

in this remarkable manner ; on the contrary, it has been said of him 
that he "put more thought into one sermon, than other clergymen did 
into five." 

Urhanity was a prominent characteristic of the deportment of Dr. 
Kirkland, and to this may chiefly be attributed the power which he 
had of gaining the love of all who knew him ; his kindness of heart 
was as an inner sun, which irradiated a countenance expressive of all 
benignant emotions : he looked to be what he was emphatically — a 
good man and a Christian. " Both as a preacher and pastor," says 
Dr. Young, " by his whole spirit and bearing, he made religion lovely 
and attractive, particularly to the intelligent, the refined, and the 
young. He stripped it of its stiff and formal costume, its gloomy and 
forbidding look, and its austere and repellent manners. He taught 
men by his conversation and deportment, quite as much as by his 
preaching — confirming and illustrating the beautiful remark of Hooker, 
that ' the life of a pious clergyman is visible rhetoric' " 

Dr. Kirkland was chosen President of Harvard College on the 
death of its esteemed head. Dr. Webber. He was elected by the cor- 
poration of the University, in August, 1810; the election was con- 
firmed by the board of overseers during the same month, — but, 
owing to his own modest distrust of his capacity for such a 
position, his answer of acceptance was delayed until the following 
October. He was inducted into office on the 14th of the ensuing 
November. 

" The presidency of Dr. Kirkland," says one of his most careful 
eulogists, " was the Augustan age of Harvard College." This certainly 
is high encomium ; but to prove its justice, we may be permitted to 
quote the remarks of his immediate successor in office, the venerable 

10 



74 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

ex-president Josiah Quincy, who, in bis copious " History of Harvard 
University," says tliat " the early period of the administration of Presi- 
dent Kirkland was pre-eminently distinguished for bold, original, and 
successful endeavors to elevate the standard of education in the Uni- 
versity, and to extend the means of instruction, and multiply accom- 
modations in every department. Holwortby Hall, University Hall, 
Divinity Hall, and the Medical College, in Boston, were erected. 
Liberal expenditures were incurred for furnishing University Hall, and 
for repairs and alterations in the other departments. The library, the 
chemical, philosophical, and anatomical apparatus of the University, 
and the mineralogical cabinet, were enlarged, and rooms for the lec- 
tures of the medical professors were fitted up in Holden Chapel. The 
grounds surrounding the college edifices, were planted with ornamen- 
tal trees and shrubberies ; the salaries of the president and professors 
were satisfai^torily raised ; and as professorships became vacant, they 
were filled with young men of talent and promise. * * * The 
external indications of prosperity and success were general, manifest, 
and applauded. 

" The extraordinary enlargement of the means, and advancement of 
the interests of learning in the University during this period, are to be 
attributed to the fortunate influx of the liberal patronage of individuals 
and the legislature; to the spirit of an age of improvement; but most 
of all, to the eminent men who then composed the corporation, and 
brought into it a weight of talent, personal character, and external 
influence, combined with an active zeal for the advancement of the 
institution, previously unparalleled — and who, placing an almost unlim- 
ited confidence in its president, vested him with unprecedented powers 
in the management of its affairs, which he exercised in a manner 



HARVARD HILL. 7,'', 

lioeral and trustful of public support. This confidence was not only 
known and avowed, but is distinctly apparent on the records of the 
college, and had, unquestionably, a material influence on the measures 
and results of that administration." 

President Quincy very justly alludes, in the foregoing, to " the emi- 
nent men" who composed the corporation of the colle^ge at the time 
of which we are writing ; and it may be well, in this connection, to 
refresh the mind of the reader, by enumerating the names, amongst 
the laity, of the Hon. John Davis, Oliver Wendell, Theophilus Par- 
sons, John Lowell, John Phillips, Christopher Gore, Wm. Prescott, 
Harrison Gray Otis, Charles Jackson, Joseph Story, Nathaniel Bow- 
ditch, and Francis C. Gray, — amongst the clergy, of the Rev. John 
Eliot, William Ellery Channing, Samuel C. Thacher, John Lathrop, 
Charles Lowell, and Eliphalet Porter. 

Not less distinguished was the college at this time, for its bright 
array of professors and tutors, — amongst whom we may mention the 
oamej of Frisbie, Farrar, Norton, Hedge, Everett, Ticknor, Popkin, 
Bigelow, Sparks, Bancroft, Cogswell, and Follen. Two of these indi- 
viduals have received the honor of being sent ambassador to the court 
of St. James ; and one of the two is now the third successor to Dr. 
Kirkland in the presidency of Harvard University. 

In writing of the public career of President Kirkland, and of his 
many -estimable traits of character, as a man and a Christian, the gen- 
erosity of his disposition should not be passed over. He was the 
friend of temperance and moral reform — a man of an expansive be- 
nevolence of thought, and of a generous charity. "Many a young 
man," says Dr. Young, " was prevented from leaving college with his 
education unfinished, by the timely and generous charity which he 



76 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

imparted. Whilst Dr. Kirkland had a dollar in his pocket, it was 
ever at the command of the poor Cambridge scholar." 

Dr. Kirkland retained his position at the head of the college for a 
period of eighteen years, when, owing to his declining health, he sent 
in his resignation of the high duties of the presidency, on the 28th of 
March, 1828. With evident regret the corporation accepted his resig- 
nation; and the students manifested their affectionate and respectful 
feelings towards him, by a costly present of silver plate. He em- 
barked for Europe in 1829, and was three years absent, travelling 
over that continent, and parts of Asia and Africa. He returned home 
in 1832 ; but his strength was broken by paralysis, and he passed 
away from earth in the spring of 1840 — having ever been one to 
whom might well be applied the words of the prophet Daniel : " light, 
and understanding, and wisdom, and knowledge, and an excellent 
spirit, were found in him." 




avr'^o- 


m. '-^■'}- 





THE APPLETON MONUMENT. 



" A lovely temple ! such as shone 

Upon thy classic mounts, fair Greece ! 
For which thy kings exchanged their throne, 
War's stirring field, for the grave's peace." 

[McLellaw. 



A Grecian temple in miniature of fine Italian marble, most cor- 
rectly represented in the engraving, marks the burial-place belonging 
to Samuel Appleton, Esq., of Boston. It is surmounted by funereal 
lamps, and has appropriate devices on its facade— the whole exquisite- 
ly wrought by the Italian artists. This monument is in Woodbine 
Path, and has been erected by a gentleman conspicuous for his wealth, 
hospitality, and benevolence. Mr. Samuel Appleton is the oldest of 
a family in Boston, whose position, influence, and liberality have ren- 
dered them eminently distinguished in Massachusetts. 

The monument which he has erected is one of the most costly in 
Mount Auburn, and is usually inquired for by strangers visiting the 
place. Its situation in the midst of a dense grove of evergreens, is 
highly picturesque. 



THE MONUMENT 



JOHN HOOKER ASHMUN, 



" And there are some names even in Sardis, which have not defiled their garments. And 
they shall walk with me in white, for they are worthy." 

[New Testameni. 



We have already mentioned the name of a distinguished scholar- 
one of the professors formerly connected with the University — whose 
remains repose near the sculptured sarcophagus of President Kirkland. 
How well the name of John Hooker Ashmun has been honored — 
how truly his scholarship and character of mind have been appreciated 
and valued, will appear from the remarkable inscription on his monu- 
ment — a model as it is of condensation, — containing almost a biogra- 
phy in an epitaph. Charles Chauncy Emerson is the author of the 
following inscription, pronounced, by common consent, one of the 
best in Mount Auburn : — 



HARVARD HILL. 79 

J9cte lies tjc JSoUg of 

JOHN HOOKER ASHMUN, 

aoyall professor of law in harvard university: 

Who was born July 3, 1800, 
And died April 1, 1833. 



In him the Science of Law appeared native and intuitive : 

He went behind Precedents to Principles ; and Boolvs were his helpers, never his masters : 

There was the beauty of Accuracy in his Understanding, 

And the beauty of Uprightness in his Character. 

Through the slow progress of the Disease which consumed his Life, 
He kept unimpaired his Kindness of Temper, and Superiority of Intellect; 

He did more, sick, than others, in health ; 

He was fit to Teach, at an age when common men are beginning to Learn ; 

And his few years bore the fruit of long life. 

A lover of Truth, an obeyer of Duty, a sincere Friend, and a wise Instructor, 

HIS PITPILS 
RAISE THIS STONE TO HIS MEMORY. 

The father of Professor Ashniim — EU P. Ashmun, Esq., of North- 
ampton — was a man of distinguished talents as a lawyer and states- 
man, and the intellectual gifts of his children appear to have been 
their natural heritage. John Hooker Ashmun was not thirty years of 
age when he received the appointment to the Royall Professorship, as 
the successor of Chief Justice Parker ; and though he was young in 



8C MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED, f 

years, the uoniination was universally hailed with applause ; no en- 
vious voice arose to dispute his claims to such distinction ; the wise 
rejoiced in the appointment, and the students exulted in the choice of 
so competent an instructor. President Quincy, in his "History of 
Harvard College," thus alludes to this appointment: — "Never were 
honors more worthily bestowed, or the duties of a professor's chair 
more faithfully fulfilled. His learning was deep, various, and accurate, 
and his method of instruction searching and exact. Few men have 
impressed upon the memories of their friends, a livelier sense of ex- 
cellence and unsullied virtue. Fewer have left behind them a charac- 
ter so significant in its outlines, and so well fitted to sustain an 
enduring fame." Professor Ashmun was not destined, however, to live 
to heighten his fame. In less than four years from his acceptance of 
the professorship, his career as a dispenser of legal instruction was 
terminated by death. He quietly met liis euthanasia, on the morning 
of April 1st, 1833, just as the bright glow of the early day streamed 
into his chamber, a fitting type of his own clear intellect, the diffusive 
light of which, like that of the risen sun illuminating the home of 
genius, had enlightened so many minds in the noble science of juris- 
prudence. 

In a discourse pronounced by the late Judge Story, before the fel- 
lows and faculty of Harvard University, on the death of Professor 
Ashmun, April 5th, 1833, it is gratifying to note with what a simple 
eloquence the gifted speaker pronounced his eulogy upon the character 
of the departed. "Such as he was," he says, "we can bear him in 
our hearts, and on our lips, with a manly praise. We can hold him 
up as a fit example for youthful emulation and ambition ; not dazzling 
but elevated ; not stately, but solid ; not ostentatious, but pure." Al- 



HARVARD HILL. 81 

luding to Mr. Ashrann's nomination to the Royall Professorship, Judge 
Story says: — "It was a spontaneous movement of the corporation 
itself, acting on its own responsibiUty, upon a deliberate' review of his 
qualifications, and after the most searching inquiry into the solidity of 
his reputation." This tribute to his talents and ability is of the high- 
est kind ; and it remains but to add, that he had early gained his fame 
in the practice of legal science, by his brilliant success at the bar 
whilst a resident of Northampton, and by his association with Judge 
Howe in a law school in that flourishing town. 

We cannot conclude this notice of one of the distinguished dead 
whose remains are interred beneath the shady eminence of Harvard 
Hill — that spot of thronging interests — without recalling, as a model 
for the youth of our community, the example of the student-life of the 
lamented Ashmun. Without any of the extrinsic graces of person or 
of oratory ; without strength of voice ; and without the health which 
gives so much success to professional labor, he possessed an earnest- 
ness and truth of manner, which made his hearers always regard him 
with the most profound attention. Again to quote the words of his 
distinguished eulogist, now, alas ! called to meet his friend and young 
companion in a better world, " he convinced where others sought but 
to persuade ; he bore along the court and the jury by the force of his 
argument; he grappled with their minds, and liound them down \\ith 
those strong ligaments of the law, which may not be broken, and 
cannot be loosened. In short, he often olitained a triumph, where 
mere eloquence must have failed. His conscientious earnestness com- 
manded confidence, and his powerful expostulations secured tlie passes 
to victory. Certain it is, that no man of his years was ever listened 
to with iMDrc undivided attention by the court and l)ar. or received 



82 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

from tliciii more unsolicited approbation. If, to the circumstances al- 
ready alluded to, we add the fact of his deafness, his professional suc- 
cess seems truly remarkable. It is as proud an example of genius 
subduing to its own purposes, every obstacle opposed to its career, and 
working out its own lofty destiny, as could well be presented to the 
notice of ingenuous youth. It is as fine a demonstration as we could 
desire, of that great moral truth, that man is far less what nature 
has originally made him, than ivhat he chooses to make himself." 

With this review of Professor Ashmun's brief career on earth, we 
think we have fully illustrated the truth of the remarkable epitaph on 
his monument — an elegant tribute, as the latter is, from one gifted 
mmd, to the superior intelligence and manly character of another. 



THE DEAD 



HARVARD HILL. 



** Life hath its flowers, — and what are they ? 
Tlie buds of early love and truth, 
Which spring and wither in a day ; 

The gems of wann, confiding youth • 
Alas ! those buds decay and die, 

Kre ripen'd and matured in bloom ; 
E'en in an hour beliold them lie 
Upon the still and lonely tomb." 

[Brooks. 

" Yes, here they lie ; the student-youth, — 
The early houor'd dead ; 
Gone now with trust and holy truth, 
To meet in Christ, their Head." 



Clustering around the graves of Kirkland and Ashmun, to the 
riglit and left of Harvard Hill, are monunient.s to many of the students 
in the University, and to some of their instructors and tutors. With 
each name there is a hnked history of high hopes and natural aspira- 
tions — but they lived, died, and have been lamented. This is the lot 
of all with whom virtue and uprightness are the guides of earthly 
action, and " the proudest can boast of little more." They have a 
name and a tomb amongst those whom they would have been glad to 



84 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED 

emulate, aud they have passed away iu the very summer of their 
beauty, teaching us, by the " seemingly untoward circumstances of 
their departure from this life, that they and we shall live forever." 

Amongst the names recorded on these various monuments, we find 
those of Charles S. Wheeler and Samuel T. Hildreth, both instruc- 
tors in the University; of Wm. H. Cowan, of the Law School; of 
Frederic A. Hoffman, of Baltimore ; of John A. Terry, Epliraim C. 
Roby, Charles Ridgely Greenwood, Charles Sedgwick, of Lenox, 
Wm. Cranch Bond, John A. Emery, aud Edward C. JNIussey. Neat 
marble obelisks adorn these graves, erected, in many cases, I)y the 
classmates of the deceased, and bearing suitable inscriptions. Few 
can wander around the spot where repose these young "buds of 
promise," so quickly blasted, without a crowd of feelings, suggested by 
their early departure from a world, the bitterness of which they had 
never known, and any conflict with which they had never been called 
to meet. To say that wc mourn their loss, would be improper ; for, 
in the expressive words of an English poet, — 

" 'Mid thorns and snares our way we take, 
And yet we mourn the blest 1" 

There is a better country, " even an heavenly," and there, we trust, 
the beatified spirits of the loved and early lost are commingling with 
" the just made perfect." Therefore, remembering the words of Sol- 
omon, that we " may praise the dead more than the living," we may 
well apply, in this connection, the remaining lines of the stanza • 

" For those who throng the eternal throne, 
Lost are the tears we shed ; 
They are tiio livinjr, they alone, 
Wliom thus we call the dead." 



THE MONUMENT TO CHANNING. 



" Some there are, 
By their good works exalted ; lofty minds 
And meditative ; authors of delight 
And happiness, which to the end of time 
Will live, and spread, and kindle. Even such minds 
In childhood, from this solitary Being, 
Or from like wanderer, haply have received 
(A thing more precious far than all that books, 
Or the solicitudes of love can do !) 
That first mild touch of sympathy and thought. 
In which they found their kindred with a world 
Where want and sorrow were." 

[Wordsworth. 



In Yarrow Path, Mount Auburn, stands a monument of fine Italian 
marble. It is wrought from a design of the greatest of American 
painters — Washington Allstou — and is erected to the nipmory of one 
of the most distinguished of American divines — William Ellery 
Channing. 

On one side of the sarcophagus is this inscription : — 



86 MOUNT AUBURN TUJISTRATED. 

5ttjtic test tlje llcmafiis of 

WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING, 

Born 7th April, 1780, 

at newport, r. i. 

Ordained June 1st, 1803, 

As A Minister of Jesus Christ to the Societv worshipping God 
IN federal-st., boston : 

fclBD 2d OCTOBER, 18IS. 

WHILE ON A JOURNEY, AT BENNINGTON, VERMONT. 

On the other side are the following words : 

IN MEMORY OF 

WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING, 

Honored througliout Cliristendom 

For his eloquence and courage, in maintaining and advancicg 

Tlie great cause of 

Truth, Religion, and Human Freedom, 

STJfs i-Honumcitl 

Is gratefully and reverently erected, 

By the Christian Society of which, during nearly forty years, 

HE WAS PASTOR. 

The above inscription truly expresses the character of Dr. Chan- 
ning, as a preacher and teacher of scripture truths, and with that one 



CHANNING'S MONUMENT. 87 

expression, " human freedom" proclaims the great object for which he 
lived and labored. 

Dr. Channing's ideal of a Christian minister was clear and lofty 
and during his whole life, he sought faithfully to be himself what 
he strove to delineate. "Like the man of genius," he stood forth as 
" the high priest of Divinity itself, before whom it befitted him to ofier 
up not only the first fruits of his intellect, but the continued savor of 
a life high and pure, and in accordance with the love he taught." 
"He needs no eulogy, ivhose life ivas full of truth" says his friend and 
colleague. Dr. Gannett, whilst attempting to render a simple but em- 
phatic tribute to his memory. Never were words more truly spoken, 
for Dr. Channing stood forth to the world as a devoted teacher of the 
beauty of hohness — the promoter of man's highest interests — a philan- 
thropist in word and deed. 

A native of Newport, R. I., Dr. Channing graduated at Harvard 
University in 1798, with the highest honors of the institution. After 
a year's sojourn at the south, he prepared himself for the ministry, and 
became so early distinguished for the style of his preaching, that he 
was immediately chosen pastor of the Federal-street Meeting-house, 
and ordained over a small society, which so rapidly increased under 
his pastoral care, that a new house of worship was erected in 1809. 
His health, Avhich was always delicate, became so nmch impaired by 
his extraordinary mental exertions, that a voyage to England was un- 
dertaken by him in 1822 ; and upon his return in the ensuing year, 
an assistant minister was chosen, to aid him in his professional 
duties. 

"From that time," savs Dr. Gannett, in his funeral address, "he 
continued to officiate in the pulpit, with more or less frequency, as his 



88 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

Strength permitted, till 1840, when he requested the society to release 
him from all obligation of professional service, though he desired to 
retain the pastoral connection towards them. As his mind was re- 
lieved from the pressure of ministerial engagements, his attention was 
more given to the aspects which society, in its opinions, usages, and 
institutions, presents to the Christian philanthropist. He was led, by 
his interest in these subjects, to communicate to the public, at different 
times, his thoughts on questions of immediate urgency, involving high 
moral considerations ; and he devoted a large part of his time to an 
examination of the light which Christianity throws upon practical 
ethics." 

The world, however, was not to receive any long continuance of 
such valuable benefactions. Illness overpowered his vital energies, 
and he sunk, to sleep in the October of 1842, just two months after 
the delivery of his singularly eloquent address in the cause of human 
freedom, on occasion of the anniversary of emancipation in the 
British West Indies. This address was spoken at Lenox, Mass. ; and 
we see in it the very soul of Channing breathing out a fervor of love 
for his fellow-men, in a surpassingly eloquent appeal to those who 
stood around him — the "freemen of the mountains," as he impressive- 
ly called them. Like the dying notes of the swan, which are said to 
be sweeter and sweeter as the bird passeth away, so this last address 
of the departed Channing, seems even more peculiar in its eloquence, 
more glowing in its philanthropy, more energetic in its tone, than the 
more common examples of his writings. 

"I am a stranger among you," he said to them, "but when I look 
round, I feel as if the subject of this address peculiarly befitted this 
spot. Where am 1 now pleading the cause and speaking the praises 



CHANNING'S MONUMENT. 89 

of liberty ? Not in crowded cities, where, amidst men's works, and 
luxuries, and wild speculations, and eager competitions for gain, the 
spirit of liberty often languishes ; but amidst towering mountains, em- 
bosoming peaceful vales ; amidst these vast works of God, the soul 
naturally goes forth, and cannot endure a chain. Your free air, which 
we came here to inhale for health, breathes into us something better 
than health, even a freer spirit. Mountains have always been famed 
for nourishing brave souls and the love of liberty. Men of Berk- 
shire ! whose nerves and souls the mountain air has braced, you surely 
will respond to him who speaks of the blessings of freedom, and the 
misery of bondage. I feel as if the feeble voice which now ad- 
dresses you, must find an echo amidst these forest-crowned heights. 
Do they not impart something of their own loftiness to men's souls ■? 
Should our commonwealth ever be invaded by victorious armies, free- 
dom's last asylum would be here. Here may a free spirit — may rever- 
ence for all human rights — may sympathy for the oppressed — may a 
stern, solemn purpose to give no sanction to oppression, take stronger 
and stronger possession of men's minds, and from these mountains, 
may generous impulses spread far and wide." 

The exertion which this good man found it necessary to make, in 
the delivery of an address which, in a closely printed form, covers 
thirty-eight pages, was a great drain upon his diminishing vital activity. 
There can be little doubt that it produced a reaction of weakness, 
and a consequent access of disease. 

"He observed the progress of his sickness," says Dr. Gannett, "with 
the calmness that was habitual with him in every situation ; expressed 
a sense of the Divine love even beyond what he had before felt; man- 
ifested that exquisite tenderness of affection, which gave such beauty 



90 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

to his private life ; spoke earnestly of the truth and worth of Chris- 
tianity, and its certain prevalence over the errors and sins of the 
world ; and thus meeting death, not as one who is taken by surprise, 
nor as one unprepared for the change it makes in human condition, 
but as one in whom the religion of Jesus Christ has built up a con- 
sciousness of immortal life, that cannot be shaken by the decay of the 
body. He sank away from his connection with the earth, as the sun, 
towards which he turned his closing eyes, was disappearing behind 
the light which it shed upon the surrounding sky, on the evening of 
that day which is dearest to the Christian heart. — the day sacred to 
the remembrance of Him who is ' the resurrection and the life.' " 

Dr. Chanuing's favorite topic of discourse — his constant theme of 
thought, was spiritual freedom ; and upon this subject he sought to 
define his views fully, in a very able discourse, delivered on occasion 
of the annual election. May 26th, 1830. Let us quote a few brief 
passages from this forcibly written production : — 

" I cannot better" (writes Dr. Channing) " give my views of spiritual 
freedom, than by saying, that it is moral energy, or force of holy pur- 
pose, put forth against the senses, the passions, the world ; and thus 
liberating the intellect, conscience, and will, so that they may act with 
strength, and unfold themselves forever. The essence of spiritual 
freedom is power." * * * * " That mind alone is free, which, 
looking to God as the inspirer and rewarder of virtue, adopts his law 
written on the heart and in His word, as its supreme rule ; and which, 
in obedience to this, governs itself, reveres itself, exerts faithfully its 
best powers, and unfolds itself by well-doing, in whatever sph^.v. God's 
providence assigns." * * * * 

" I call that mind free, which sets no bounds to its love — which is 



CHANNING'S MONUMENT. 91 

not imprisoned in itself or in a sect — which recognises in ail human 
beings, the iiiiage of God and the rights of his children — which de- 
lights in virtue, and sympathizes with suffering, wherever they are 
seen — which conquers pride, and offers itself up a willing victim to 
the cause of mankind." * * * * 

" I call that mind free, which protects itself against the usurpations 
of society, and does not cower to human opinion — which feels itself 
accountable to a higher tribunal than man's — which respects a liigher 
law than fashion — whicli respects itself too much to be the slave or 
tool of the many or the few." * * * * 

" I call that mind free, which, conscious of its affinity with God, and 
confiding in his promises by Jesus Christ, devotes itself faithfully to 
the unfolding of all its powers — which passes the bounds of time and 
death — which hopes to advance forever — and which finds inexhausti- 
ble power, both for action and stiffering, in the prospect of immor- 
tality." 

Dr. Chanuing regarded these views as the essence of civil and re- 
ligious government; they guided his own life — they were constantly 
developed in his teachings — and " it is through them," says Dr. Gan- 
nett, "that he will probably hereafter hold his place among the great 
religious teachers of his age, and of posterity." 

As Dr. Channiug was the friend of freedom, so he Avas also the 
friend of peace ; and, had be lived to the present day, the declaration 
by our government of war against a neighboring state on our south- 
western frontier, would have been to him a cause of unmitigated 
lamentation. " His interest in the subject of peace, was one of the 
fruits of his faith in Christianity. War he regard-ed as hostile to the 
spirit of our religion ; and the false associations which are connected 



92 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

with the soldier's life and person, he labored to dissipate. None spoke 
on this subject more plainly or earnestly, and few with more effect." 

The public writings of Dr. Channing made him known as well in 
Great Britain as in America ; they directed themselves, by their force 
and vigor, to the substantial minds of our mother-country, and if they 
did not always uproot prejudices, they served the cause of humanity, 
and eloquently pleaded in its behalf. We are proud to feel that he 
was a countryman of ours, even whilst we admit the force of the re- 
mark, that great men are a common property, forming, as has been 
said, a solar system in the world of mind, and shining equally for the 
benighted of all nations. 

An esteemed and appreciating critic, now numbered with the dead, 
in a brief article written during the Hfetime of this lamented divine 
and great Christian moralist, expresses himself with remarkable en- 
ergy and truth as follows : 

"Dr. Channing's genius and literature appertain exclusively to no 
sect or party. His fame belongs to his country ; his talents he has 
given to the world. His reputation is no more the peculiar possession 
of the liberal Unitarian, than of the orthodox Presbyterian ; and be- 
longs equally to the Protestant Episcopalian and the Roman Catholic. 
It is the property of the whole country, and not of a religious sect or 
a political party. He has won for himself a glorious and honorable 
notoriety, which is not limited to the precincts of a parish, nor the 
confines of a town. His genius has overleaped the boundaries of 
states ; it permeates the Union ; has crossed the barrier of the ocean, 
and finds companionship in the mighty minds of literary Europe. 

" He has given strength to our literature, and a moral grandeur to 
our political institutions. He has taught us that freedom does not 



CHANNING'S MONUMENT. 93 

consist in the concessions of an extorted character, nor in tlie bold 
avowals of a written declaration of independence. He has enforced, 
with sturdy eloquence, the necessity of emancipating the mind, and 
urged upon us the conviction of our individual responsibility. He has 
compelled us to feel how far we are from perfection, and taught us 
what we must do to attain it. With regard to his genius and scholar- 
ship, he who, bhnded by sectarian or party prejudices, cannot discover 
or will not acknowledge the superiority of his intellect, is neither to 
be lauded for his tolerance, nor envied for the clearness of his percep- 
tions." 

In the death of a man of such a mind, and such elevated ideas of 
Christian duty, society felt that it would be no easy matter to supply 
the void ; and the pilgrim to Mount Auburn, at this day, feels many a 
regret, as his recollections cluster around the sepulchral urn of the 
devout and benevolent philanthropist. 



THE TOMB OF STORY; 



FOREST POND. 



"All around U.5 there breathes a solemn calm, as if we were in the bosom of a wilderness, 
broken only by the breeze as it murmurs through the tops of the forest, or by the notes of the 
warbler, pouring forth his matin or his evening song. Nature seems to point it out with sig- 
nificant energy, as the favorite retirement for the dead." 

[Story's Consecration Address. 

" His voice of eloquence the first 
Upon these listening woods to burst, 
When consecratiug rite and prayer 
Arose like incense on the air ; 
Oft will the future pilgrim's eye 
Seek out his marble to descry." 

[McLellam. 



The holiness of nature is ever a lofty contemplation ; and it is well 
amidst the quiet wildwood and beneath the forest-shades, to be re- 
minded sometimes of death and of the grave, and even in types, em- 
blems, and shadows, to be made to think seriously of the frailty of 
life, and to rejoice in the possibility of the attainment of that glorious 
existence, for which this world is but a state of preparation. We can 
stand upon the wide Necropolis of Mount Auburn, and seem to look 
through death's open portals to the bright mansions of " the better 



I ^ 




STORY'S MONUMENT. 95 

land" — to " a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens ;" 
and, as we do so, we may build up in memory three tabernacles : in 
the words of the devout Herbert, — 



' The first tabernacle to Hope we do build, 
And look for the sleepers around us to rise ; 
The second to Faith, which insures it fulfiU'd ; 
And the third to the Lamb of the great sacrifice, 
Who bequeath'd us them both when He rose from the skies." 



" When we have before us," says a truthful writer, " the monumen- 
tal tributes raised by their country above the honored dead — when we 
see the reward bestowed on worth, talent, and virtue, even when life 
is over, the spectacle is well fitted to excite in us a noble emulation." 
Every way, therefore, do these adornments of the grave appear to be 
commendable as well as useful ; and we may not vainly hope to earn a 
fate for ourselves, hke that which has met the strivings of noble. Chris- 
tian genius. Rural burial-places are depositories worthy an advanced 
Christianity ; and, as there can be nothing about them to minister to 
low gratifications, but everything to exalt and purify the mind, they are 
undoubtedly as favorable to morals as to the indulgence of refined taste. 

Mount Auburn contains no head that has worn the monarch's dia- 
dem, but it is nevertheless a sepulchre of royal dead. A succession 
of intellectual sovereigns lie buried there, — men to whose renoAvn 
neither granite or marble can add applause, — men whose names alone 
shall be their moniunent. " The whole earth," said Edward Everett, 
" is the monument of illustrious men ;" and the enduring obelisk or 
sarcophagus thus becomes but the appropriate " guide for the grateful 
student and the respectful stranger, to the precincts of that spot, where 
all that is mortal rests of some of the world's benefactors." Are not 



96 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

the names of Story, Chanuing, and Bowditch, more illustrious than 
those of many of the throned monarchs of the old world 1 Not the 
most towering obelisk that man's hands could build, would do honor to 
the name of Story. By his life and works, the great jurist built his 
own monument whilst living; and his fame will endure forever, when 
" cloud-capped tower and gorgeous palace" shall have crumbled to the 
dust. Bowditch's own self-erected monument has "reached the 
stars;" and the name of Channing will be as enduring as the love of 
freedom — as far-spreading and glorious as the pure Hght of Chris- 
tianity. 

In a retired part of Mount Auburn, near Forest Pond, is the last 
resting-place of Joseph Story, one of the greatest men of our coun- 
try. It is marked by a simple, unpretending pyramid, which tells its 
own melancholy tale. The inscription reminds us of the words oi 
the poet, — 

" Lord, here am I, and those whom thou hast given me ! 
Help me, who feel thy rod, ne'er to complain 
Of Him who hath appointed it ! O lead 
Me, and these little ones of mine, to thee." 

The record to which we here allude, gives the names of five chil- 
dren of Judge Story, who " fell asleep" in youth ; and the pious 
parent inscribes their names upon the monument, with the simple and 
scriptural words, " Of such is the kingdom of heaven." Last of all, 
the grave opened for the illustrious father ; and we are compelled, by 
our own sense of the beauty of his character, to cast our minds towards 
the morning of the resurrection, and to see the reverend man before 
the throne of Grace, with the words upon his lips, " Lord, here am I, 
and the children whom thou hast given me." 



STORY'S MONUMENT. 97 

How feeble seems the pen to do justice to the character and mind 
of one like Joseph Story ! The late Miss Landon, writing of a great 
English author, has said : " I almost fear to praise such a man ; but 
comfort myself A\ith thinking, that though kw can raise the carved 
marble over a great man's remains, all may throw a Jlower upon his 
graver Many a flower has been thrown upon the grave of Story ; 
and the heart has felt a sorrowing consolation in paying that office of 
affection to one who, in his performance of all the offices of life, 
both public and private, made the earth seem beautiful. " The lips, on 
which the bees of Hybla might have rested, have ceased to distil the 
honeyed sweets of kindness. The body, warm with all the affections 
of life — with love for family and friends, for truth and virtue — has 
mouldered to dust. But let us listen to the words which, though 
dead, he utters from the grave : ' Sorrow not as those without hope.' 
The righteous judge, the wise teacher, the faithful friend, the loving 
father, has ascended to his Judge, his Teacher, his Friend, his Father 
in heaven." 

Judge Story was born September 18, 1779, at Marblehead, in Mas- 
sachusetts. He entered Harvard College at the age of sixteen, and 
was admitted to the bar in 1801, having studied law with Justice 
Sewall of Marblehead, and Justice Putnam of Salem. At the early 
age of thirty-two, he was appointed associate justice of the Supreme 
Court of the United States — an office which he occupied with honor 
till his death. He was elected to the Dane professorship of law in 
Harvard College in 1829. He filled some of the most important situa- 
tions in the gift of corporations or individuals ; whilst not only his 
own state and country, but distant lands, acknowledged the supremacy 

of his intellectual greatness, 
u 



98 MOUNT AUUUHN ILLUSTHATKD. 

If the remark be generally correct, that "tlicre never was a great 
man a\ ho liad not a great mother," it ccrtainhj may be particularly 
proved in the- case of Justice Story. His mother is said to have been 
a lady of indomitable energy of character, and of active mind ; and 
from her the gifted son received many noble incentives towards high 
culture and philanthropic purpose. He entered political life at a time 
of great excitement ; but he could not enjoy the strife which it engen- 
dered and sustained. He had too honest and faithful a character, to 
relish being the organ of a party either at home or in Congress; he 
felt that engaging in politics prevented complete success at the bar ; 
and, being appointed one of the judges of the Supreme Court, he 
withdrew at once from the political arena; "and," says Prof. Green- 
leaf, " though never an indifferent spectator of his country's fortunes, 
he ever afterwards participated in them, not as a partisan, but as a 
judge." 

As a writer on points of law, Judge Story never has had, perhaps 
never will have his parallel. "His written judgments on his own cir- 
cuit," says Mr. Sumner, in an exceedingly beautiful tribute to his 
memory, "together with his various commentaries, occupy twenty-seven 
volumes ; while his judgments in the Supreme Court of the United 
States, form an important part of no less than thirty-four volumes 
more." He was a master logician in the law ; his reasoning was as 
clear as the day ; and his treatises copious, without prolixity. As a 
legal writer, he was as much the wonder of England as the admiration 
of America ; his fame spread rapidly over the sea ; and, that we lliul 
his works quoted in other tongues than our own, is one of the proudest 
evidences of his profound and comprehensive mind. 

" In the high court of parliament," said Daniel Webster at a meet- 



STORY'S MONUMENT. 99 

ing of the bar, called upon the occasion of Judge Story's death; "in 
every court in Westminster Hall; in every distinguished judicature in 
Europe; in the courts of Paris, of Berlin, of Stockholm, and of St. 
Petersburg; in the universities of Germany, Italy, and Spain, his au- 
thority was received ; and all, when they hear of his death, will agree 
that a great luminary has fallen." 

But let us pass, for a moment, from his career as a man of law and 
letters, to his social life. Here he was indeed the diffusive sun of a 
wide circle ; his love of humanity made him urbane to all ; his general 
knowledge was no selfish acquisition, to be communicated to a few, or 
to be used as special occasion demanded. To all he was equally affa- 
ble, and particularly to the inquiring mind. His manner of conversa- 
tion was simple and easy — but his auditors felt that whe* he spoke, 
his mouth, like that of the good fairy, indeed " dropped pearls ;"' he 
possessed a peculiarly catholic spirit of peace and good-will towards 
men. " We have seen and known him," said Mr. Webster on the oc- 
casion before referred to, " in private life. We cau bear witness to his 
strict uprightness and purity of character ; his simplicity and unosten- 
tatious habits ; the ease and affability of his intercourse ; his great 
vivacity amid the severest labors, and his fidelity to his friends ; and 
we can testify, also, to his large and systematic charities, not dispensed 
in a public manner, but gladdening the hearts of those whom he as- 
sisted in private, and distilling like the dew of heaven." 

On the 10th of September, 1S45, at the age of 66, died Joseph 
Story — the accomplished scholar, the profound jurist, the good man ' 
He died in the midst of honors, and in the full exercise of intellectual 
activity. He met the lot of mortals peacefully, and carried to the 
grave no ordinary regrets. Europe mourned his loss, whilst America 



100 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

was clad in sable ; and the illustrious jurist made but another among 
the myriad examples, that 



" Our lives but lastinjr streams must be, 
That into ouo ingulfing sea 

Are doom'tl to fall ; 
O'er king and liingdorn, crown and throne, 
The sea of death, whose waves roil on, 

Aud swallow all." 



He was buried in JNIount Auburn — a spot of eai-th peculiarly be- 
loved by him, and at the consecration of which as a rural cemetery, 
he delivered a touchingly beautiful and scholar-like address. The 
trees which he loved, wave their umbrageous branches over the stone 
erected to die memory of his children, by the side of whom he sleeps; 
and the light of morning and evening gilds it with a coloring of gold. 
" So shines the eternal Nature on the wrecks of all that makes life 
glorious ;" and there is not a sun that sets not everywhere over the 
graves of lamented genius ! 



CONSECRATION DELL. 



" Thou, God, art here : Thou fill'st 
The solitude. Tliou art in the soft winds 
That run along the summit of those trees 
In music : Thou art in tlie cooler breath 
That, from the inmost darkness of the place. 
Comes, scarcely felt : the barky trees, the ground, 
The fresh, moist earth, are all instinct with Thee. 
Here is continual worship ; nature here, 
In the tranquillity that Thou dost love, 
Enjoys thy presence." 

[Brvant. 



The significant name of the deep valley, which is above given, is 
derived from the fact that it was the spot chosen, at the time of the 
appropriation of Mount Aubm"n as a burial-place, for the performance 
of the service of consecration. The engraving delineates the appear- 
ance of the dell on one side — the monument in the foreground deno- 
ting very nearly the point upon which the orator stood, and the 
acclivity opposite, being the position occupied by the crowd of persons 
who repaired thither to listen to the consecrating address. The seats 
were arranged on the hillside in such a manner, that it had the ap- 
pearance of an amphitheatre ; and the whole scene presented upon 
the occasion, is described as having been picturesque and beautiful in 
the highest degree. 



1U2 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

Judge Story, whose recent death has been so widely lamented, 
and who now lies interred amidst the earth of his favorite place 
ot retirement, addressed the large concourse who had assembled, 
in a strain of earnest eloquence. His remarks were peculiarly 
adapted to the interesting circumstances of the occasion; and he 
spoke with an intensity of feeling which seems to impart itself, 
even at this day, to the reader of his thoughtful address. After re- 
marking upon the great appropriateness of Mount Auburn as a 
place of interment, he alluded to the "voice of consolation" which 
would spring up in the midst of the silence of that region of death, 
and of the hallowed feehngs with which mourners would revisit the 
shades where the loved and lost repose. "Spring," he said, "will in- 
vite thither the footsteps of the young by her opening foliage, and 
autumn detain the contemplative by its latest bloom. The votary of 
science will here learn to elevate his genius by the holiest studies. 
The devout will here offer up the silent tribute of pity, or the prayer 
of gratitude. The rivalries of the world will here drop from the 
heart ; the spirit of forgiveness will gather new impulses ; the restless- 
ness of ambition will be rebuked; vanity will let fall its plumes; and 
pride, as it sees ' what shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue,' 
will acknowledge the value of virtue as far, inmieasurably far beyond 
that of fame. But that which will ever be present, pervading these 
shades, like the noonday suu, and shedding cheerfulness around, is the 
consciousness, the irrepressible consciousness, amidst all these lessons 
of human mortality, of the higher truth, that we are beings not of 
time, but of eternity — ' that this corruptible must put on incorruption, 
and this mortal must put on inunortality' — that this is but the thresh- 
hold and starting-point of an existence, compared whh whose duration 



CONSECRATION DELL. 103 

the ocean is but as a drop, nay, the whole creation an evanescent 
quantity." 

The address was delivered on the 24th of September, 1831, — the 
other services of the occasion being performed by the Rev. Dr. Ware 
and the Rev. Mr. Pierpont. One of the journals of the day gives 
the following account of the scene which was presented in that deep 
valley of Mount Auburn, crowded with its assembly of two thousand 
persons : 

" An unclouded ^in and an atmosphere purified by the showers of 
the preceding night, combined to make the day one of the most de- 
lightful we ever experience at this season of the year. It is unneces- 
sary for us to say, that the address by Judge Story was pertinent to 
the occasion — for if the name of the orator were not sufficient, the 
perfect silence of the multitude, enabling him to be heard with dis- 
tinctness at the most distant part of the beautiful amphitheatre in 
which the services were performed, will be sufficient testimony as to 
its worth and beauty. Neither is it in our power to furnish any ade- 
quate description of the effect produced by the music of the thousand 
voices which joined in the hymn, as it swelled in chastened melody 
from the bottom of the glen, and, like the spirit of devotion, found an 
echo in every heart, and pervaded the whole scene. 

"The natural features of Mount Auburn are incomparable for the 
purpose to which it is now sacred. There is not, in all the untrodden 
valleys of the west, a more secluded, more natural or appropriate spot 
for the religious exercises of the living : we may be allowed to add 
our doubts, whether the most opulent neighborhood of Europe fur- 
nishes a spot so singularly appropriate for a ' garden of graves.' 

" In the course of a few years, when the hand of taste shall have 



104 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

passed over the luxuriance of nature, we may challenge the rivalry ol 
the world to produce another such abiding-place for the spirit, of 
beauty." 

The concluding words of the above are fast proving themselves in 
the many improvements already effected by the "hand of taste;" and 
Mount Auburn miglit now make the traveller to exclaim, in the words 
of Shakspeare, — 

" If the ill spirit have so fair a home, good things will strive to dn'cll wiili it." 



THE BOWDITCH STATUE. 



" Bright guide to Commerce ! Though, alas ! no more 
Thy buoyant footsteps mark earth's narrow shore ; 
Though not for thee heaven's wheehng orbs return ; 
Though not for thee yon glistening pleiads burn ; 
Though from this spot no longer looks thine eye, 
As onco to scan the countless worlds on high ; — 
la every age, through every sea and clime, 
The name of Bowditch triumphs over time." 

[J. T. FlELM. 

" A garland for the noble dead ! 
A chaplet for the silver head I 
The star that tells the mariner 
Far over trackless deeps to steer. 
Here wanes ! Like the sea's mournful surge. 
The breeze o'er Bowditch sighs its dirge." 

[McLellan. 



Erected upon a granite foundation, and facing the main entrance 
to Mount Auburn, stands the imposing bronze statue of the venerable 
Dr. Bowditch, than whom few have ever existed, more deserving of 
the appUcation of the scripture hne — "Mark the perfect man, and be- 
hold the upright; for the end of that man is peace." Like Enoch of 
old, he " walked with God" in humility and virtue ; he felt the ra- 
diance of a path enlightened by the Deity, and it led him successfully 
on towards the realms of immortality. This remark may well be 
made of one of whom one of his biographers has said, that at the 



106 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

age of twenty-one, "he exhibited all those beautiful and harmonicas 
elements, which he ever afterwards retained. That deep religious 
principle which sustained and cheered him in the last hours of his 
life, had guided his boyhood, and was the familiar and inseparable 
companion of his mature years ; and already were displayed those va- 
rious social and personal virtues, which were to render him a moral 
exemplar to the community in which he lived." 

" I have known Dr. Bowditch," said one of his seafaring compan- 
ions, "intimately for more than fifty years, and I know no faults. This 
may seem strange ; for most of your great men, when you look at 
them closely, have something to bring them down, — but he had noth- 
ing. I suppose all Europe would not have tempted him to swerve a 
hair's breadth from what he thought right." 

These tributes to moral excellence are dearer to a man's children, 
and more worthy of estimation by the world, than the greatest scho- 
lastic attainments; the human heart should lean towards goodness and 
virtue, rather than to fame — for " time may efface a name engraven on 
marble ; .but to do so, it must corrode the material : it is the same with 
the heart; our strong impressions may be erased; but before they can 
be so, the heart itself must be impaired." 

Dr. Nathaniel Bowditch was born in Salem, Massachusetts, March 
26th, 1773, being a descendant of a respectable ancestry, who were 
shipmasters and mechanics ; and, like many eminent men of past and 
present time, he could trace his progress in virtue and high attain- 
ments, to the influence of his mother, a strong-minded and exemplary 
woman, who exercised a most salutary effect upon the mind of her 
son, in the development of his fine traits of character and remarkable 
talents. 



THE BOWDITCH STATUE. 107 

The early youth of Dr. Bowditch was one of struggle and self- 
denial. Havmg received some slight elementary instruction, he was 
taken (at the age of ten years) to labor in his father's shop as a 
cooper, and was afterwards transferred to a ship-chandlery establish- 
ment. In 1795, at the age of twenty-two, he sailed on his first voy- 
age ; and was thus put in the way of becoming what he was in after 
years — a practical navigator, and a profound mathematician. He 
was extremely fond of books, and spared no pains to avail himself of 
every means of acquiring information, whether relating to philosophy 
or science. When not able to purchase such books as he desired, he 
would take the trouble of transcribing their contents witli the pen ; 
and in this way he wrote off mathematical and other papers of in- 
terest, to the extent of tivcnty folio and quarto common-place hooJis and 
oilier volumes. These have now become the most valuable relics in 
the library of the venerable departed ; and they serve as examples of 
industry and courage to his gifted children. And here we are re- 
minded of the words of an able writer, who says that '^patience is 
necessary in all things, and is, perhaps, one of the most useful and es- 
timable qualities of life. It enables us to bear, without shrinking, the 
bitterest evils that can assail us ; whilst without patience, philosophy 
would never have made those wonderful discoveries that subjugate 
nature to our yoke." 

It is related of Dr. Bowditch, that between the years 1795 and 
1804, he made five voyages, beginning the first voyage in the capacity 
of clerk, and In the last, attaining the rank both of master and super- 
cargo. During his voyages he perfected a knowledge of many of the 
modern languages, and made those rapid advances in mathematical 
calculations, which afterwards so peculiarly distinguished him.. 



JOS MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

"On the 28th of May, 1799," says his son, in a preface to Dr. Bow- 
ditch's translation of the " Mecanique Celeste," " he was chosen a mem- 
ber of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. Some of the most 
valuable and interesting papers in its Transactions, were the subsequent 
contributions of his pen ; and the presidency of the society, to which 
he was elected in May, 1829, in the place of John Gluincy Adams, is 
one of the highest honors which science offers to her votaries on this 
side of the Atlantic." 

One of the greatest works of the life and energy of Dr. Bowditch, 
was the preparation of " The New Ainerican Practical Navigator" — 
a work used by every shipmaster sailing from our shores, and adopted, 
in portions, into English works, to the same valuable end. 

In 1823, Dr. Bowditch removed from Salem to Boston, having been 
for many years President of the Essex Fire and Marine Company, 
where his admirable management gained for the institution a very 
large surplus of profits. His various scientific papers had now 
amounted to a valuable accumulation. His astronomical calculations 
were of the greatest nicety, and his demonstrations had served to 
correct many inaccuracies in other writers. But the most important 
work of Dr. Bowditch's life, was his translation of the " Mecanique 
Celeste" of La Place — a work which is confessed to be more com- 
plete than the original ; since the indefatigable translator, not content 
with an adherence to the text, had superadded all the more important 
modern calculations, making it to embrace a complete history of the 
state of the science at the time of its publication. A higher tribute 
to the great value of a work could not be given, than the let- 
ters received by Dr. Bowditch from the most eminent "scientific men 
of Europe, all attesting to the perfection and importance of his labors 



THE BOWDITCH STATUE. 109 

Probably few men living had refused so many lionors of place and 
station, as Dr. Bowditch. Ardently attached to his native town of 
Salem, and being certainly one of its greatest benefactors, he dechncd 
an appointment as Professor of Mathematics in Harvard University, 
as well as a similar one in the University of Virginia, and in the 
Academy at West Point. Oflices in Boston were also offered him ; 
but he could not be brought from his favorite residence until the abso- 
lute importance of his acceptance of the charge of the Massachusetts 
Hospital Life Insurance Company, seemed to win him from his 
favorite home. He had at first declined this appointment ; but the 
urgent necessity of the case baffled his attachment to Salem, and he 
felt it his duty to yield to the good of others. A public festival was 
given in his honor when he left Salem for the adjacent city, and upon 
occasion of which, the most touching expressions of love and esteem 
were bestowed upon him. Amongst others, it was said that, as " he 
was the first of his countrymen in the walks of science, so he was 
second to no man on earth for purity and honor." It was declared, 
also, at the same time, that " as the monarchy of France had done 
honor to her La Place, so Avould the republic of America not be un- 
grateful to her Bowditch!' 

Dr. Bowditch was a person of rare insight into character, and sin- 
gular magnanimity of disposition, as various anecdotes connected with 
his official career attest ; whilst his great precision in business matters, 
made him a model of honorable imitation. The Rev. Mr. Young, in 
his eulogy, has said of Dr. Bowditch, that "the world has been the 
happier and wiser that he has lived in it;" and the youth of our land 
should proudly take him for an example. How much of Dr. Bow- 
ditch's excellence of character and kindly regard for others, proceeded 



liO MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

from his constant realization that he was an " accountable agent," and 
must one day be called to " give an account of his stewardship," we 
do not pretend to saj ; but it is evident that Faith was the guiding- 
star of his life, and " brotherly love" one of the best attributes of his 
being. 

Dr. Bowditch died on the IGth of March, 1838. One of the 
happiest and most beautiful tributes to his memory, is recorded in the 
resolutions adopted by the Marine Society of Salem, upon the sad 
occasion of his decease. We extract the passage, as follows : 

" When the voice of eulogy shall be still ; when the tear of sorrow 
shall cease to How, no monument shall be needed to keep alive his 
memory among men ; — but as long as ships shall sail, the needle point 
to the north, and the stars go through their wonted courses in the 
heavens, the name of Dr. Bowditch will be revered as of one who 
helped his fellow-men in a time of need ; who was and is a guide to 
them over the pathless ocean ; and of one who forwarded the great 
interests of mankind." 

The monument which has been recently placed in Mount Auburn, 
is the first bronze statue of any magnitude executed in our couutry, 
and is the work of Ball Hughes, an English artist some time resi- 
dent in the United States. The design is good, and the likeness 
admirable ; whilst the whole figure is expressive of dignity, benevo- 
lence, and superior thought. The drapery is well arranged, and the 
sentiment of the figure in perfect keeping with the character of the 
man. It is an enduring memorial of one, who, though lie needed no 
monument to perpetuate his memory, deserved from his fellow-citizens 
a proud and honorable tribute. 

The statue has been erected by subscription, and placed in a con- 



THE BOWDITCH STATUE. 1 1 1 

spicuous position amidst the woody foliage of Mount Auburn. In 
the language of Mrs. Sigourney, 

'* Then let this haunt be sacred. For the feet 
Of strangers, here, in future days shall turn, 
As to some Mecca of philosophy ; 
Ai\A hero the admiring youth shall come to seek 
Some relic of the great and good — whose fame 
Shall gather greenness from the hand of Time " 



VIEW FROM MOUNT AUBURN. 



" And here, upon this self-same spot, ere yet 
The cliilhng forms of cold indifference, 
And fears of dark distrust, had worn my heart, 
And dimm'd the brightness of my youtliful thoughts — 
I've laid mo down, and mused for long, long hours, 
Till I had fill'd the scene with images 
And airy thoughts, that seem'd to live and breathe 
Amid the waving plants and flowers that bloom'd 
On every side." 

[Anonvmol's. 



The highest eminence of the cemetery ground is denominated 
Mount Auhurn ; and from this elevation the view has been drawn 
which appears in the present work. In the summer season, when tlie 
thick trees have put on their full array, and appear in all their beauty, 
the panorama is nearly lost to the view of the spectator; but in tJic 
autumn of the year, a scene is presented from this high land, which is 
worthy of the poet or the painter. Passing from the main avenue of 
the cemetery, a circuitous road leads the visiter to the summit of 
Mount Auburn, from which, in perspective, rise the numerous spires of 
the near city of Boston. Still nearer, and more visible, are the walls 
of that fostering mother of learning and science, the venerable Har- 
vard. The quiet dwellings of Cambridge lie scattered over the fore- 
ground, while Charles River, winding through the valley beneath, rolls 
its accumulated waters to the ocean. 



VIEW FROM MOUNT AUBURN. 113 

It is a favorable position from wliich to gaze downwards upon tlie 
formation of the ground ; upon the varied undulations of the hills and 
dales, the tranquil lakes, and the deep shadows of the groves. We 
look down upon a place of welcome rest for the world-weary, and the 
very stillness of the spot acquires a peculiar solemnity. The whisper 
of the pines is heard around it; and a sweet melody, peaceful and 
holy, comes upon the awakened soul, and appeals to other than the 
mere sense of sound. It seems as if it were, indeed, 

" the very voice of the Lord God, 



That Adam heard walking among the trees 
Of his own garden, in the cool of day." 



The picturesque chapel of the cemetery, seen beyond, and the tall 
spires of the distant churches, arouse the spirit of devotion. Beauti- 
fil repose is the prevailing feature of the landscape. The traveller 
who visits Mount Auburn should not cease his wanderings over the 
grounds until he has ascended this height, and marked each varied 
feature in his mind's tablet. We may well gain a lesson from nature 
amid such scenes of tranquil beauty, and learn to conform our lives to 
the order of her works, in view both of the present and the future. 



THE CONCLUSIOiN 



" What is life ? A little journey, 

Ending ere 'tis well begun ; 
'Tis a gay, disastrous tourney. 

Where a mingled tilt is run : 
And the head that wears a crown 

'Neath the meanest lance goes down- 
Walk, then, on life's pathway, mortal ! 

With a pure and steadfast heart ; 
So that, through death's frowning portal, 

Peacefully thou mayst depart." 



In the comments made in the foregoing pages upon some of the 
more gifted individuals, whose bodies he interred in Mount Auburn, 
we feel that we have spoken of those whose genius has not rested 
upon dubious testimony. We have spoken of Story, Channing, 
BowDiTCH, and other cotemporary minds, whose vigorous intellectual 
energies have gained for them an enduring name. As Hartley Cole- 
ridge said of the immortal Newton, " his body is in the grave ; his 
soul is with his Father above ; but his mind is with us still" — so it is 
with some of the monarchs of the mind, who have returned to their 
kindred dust amidst these venerable shades ; and " hence it is we per- 
ceive the superiority of intellect to all other gifts of earth, and its 
rightful subordination to the grace which is of heaven. All but the 
mind either perishes in time, or vanishes out of time into eternity. 
Mind alone lives on with time, and keeps pace with the march of 
ages." 




'^"^"^ 



THE CONCLUSION. 115 

But there are others whose remains lie within the precincts of 
Mount Auburn, with whose fame the reader is famihar, though in re- 
gard to whom, the necessary curtailment of these pages will not permit 
us space to render justice. We might speak of Buckminster, who 
perished in his prime, full of all faculties and all studies, and who has 
eloquently been called, by one of his professional brethren, " a youthful 
marvel— the hope of the church, the oracle of divinity ;" or of one 
who lived to " a good old age," and died full of years and knowledge 
—the late venerable John Davis— an upright judge and a wise coun- 
sellor, of whom it has been said, in a eulogy replete with glowing 
truth, that he " merited the title of a Christian philosopher. Over his 
old age philosophy and religion shed their mingled light, and poured 
their soft glories around his head:"— Of Amos Binney, who died 
recently in a foreign land, and whose remains have been buried in 
Mount Auburn, by the side of the parents whom he loved. For him 
the wonders of nature had a deep and abiding interest, and in him the 
natural sciences possessed a devoted friend. He was taken away in 
the midst of life, and youth, and love, when the pursuit of wisdom was 
his fascination ; when the world was sweet, and the "journey had been 
too short for the limbs to grow weary." He breathed his last in a 
stran-xe land— the fair clime of Italy ; but if his latest prayer was like 
that of the aged patriarch, "bury me not in Egypt; but I will he with 
my fathers; thou shalt carry me out of Egypt, and bury me in their 
burying-place," his wish has been fully gratified. A classic monument, 
designed and execixted by that distinguished artist, Crawford, will 
shortly be placed over his grave, and the hand of affection will then 
have paid the last tribute to the memory of a scholar and a good man. 
We might speak also of Henry Oxnard, an enterprising sea- 



116 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATED. 

captain, who relinquished his early pursuits, in which he had gained 
an honorable name, for mercantile Hfe and a permanent home m Bos- 
ton. AVith the acquisition of wealth, came the opportunities for 
active benevolence ; but with these, finally, physioa. decay and death. 
He was a valuable citizen and a kind friend — one to love for his 
warmth of heart, and to imitate for his honorable enterprise. It is to 
his memory that the bea,utiful Gothic monument, of which the engra- 
ving in this work gives so faithfiil a delineation, has been erected. 

Military as well as civil history is brought back with our reminis- 
cences of Mount Auburn, as we tread over the graves of General 
William Hull, of Captain Abraham Hull, or of that long-lived veteran. 
Captain Josiah Cleaveland, to whose memory the citizens of Boston 
have recently erected a monumental tablet, and of whose remarkable 
life the following memorial has been recorded : — 

"He was born at Canterbury, Connecticut, December 3, 1753; he 
died at Charlestown, Massachusetts. June 30, 1843. He was an officer 
of the army of freedom. He served his country bravely and faithfully 
through the whole war of the revolution. He fought her battles at 
Bunker-hill, Harlem Heights, White Plains, Trenton, Princeton, Mon- 
mouth, and Yorktown. He sustained an unblemished reputation, and 
lived in the practice of every Christian virtue. He loved, served, and 
feared God. In the ninetieth year of his age, he journeyed nearly 
five hundred miles from his home, to be present at the celebration of 
the completion of the monument on Bunker-hill. He lived to witness 
that memorable spectacle ; he was satisfied ; he laid down quietly and 
yielded up his breath, near the scene of his first conflict with the ene- 
mies of his country. He came among strangers ; he died among 
friends." 




^ 



^ I 



','3 




THE CONCLUSION. 1 17 

In the course of this work, we have two engravings representing 
monuments to Elijah Loring, Esq., of Boston, and J. H. Gossler, 
Esq., of Germany, — the former a successful merchant, honorable, up- 
right, and well-esteemed ; and the latter an enterprising and respecta- 
ble young foreigner, who sought his fortune far from his own home, in 
a land in which he gained many friends, and where his memory is yet 
honored with many happy recollections. The forest scenery around 
these picturesque spots of sepulture is pecuharly beautiful, and the 
memorials themselves evince taste in design, and skill in execution. 

But space fails us to continue even these brief obituaries, and, in- 
deed, for the mention of many others among the gifted and beautiful 
of the earth, male and female, over whom the angel Azrael waved his 
wings, and " wooed them out of being," whilst in the apparent exer- 
cise of health and strength. 

In the previous remarks in relation to Mount Auburn, and some of 
the most illustrious of its buried dead, we have been obliged to omil 
many sketches of individual character, which might have been botb 
interesting and instructive. Several of the most enticing spots, 
marked, too, by monuments of beauty, are owned by those who are 
yet amongst us, buoyant with life and energy, and of whom to speak 
here in lengthened tribute, how much soever they might deserve our 
eulogy, would be inappropriate and premature. 

Mount Auburn has become a spot upon which all hearts unite in 
harmony of purpose, and from which the best aspirations of the soul 
arise like clouds of incense towards heaven. It is adorned by nature, 
and has been improved by art. It has become a sanctified sepulchre, 
worthy of Christianity, and of a refined and intellectual people. In 
the language of the lamented Story, here, then, " let us erect the me- 



118 MOUNT AUBURN ILLUSTRATKD 

inorials of our love, our gratitude, aud our glory. Here let the brave 
repose, who have died in the cause of their country. Here let the 
statesman rest, who has achieved the victories of peace, not less re- 
nowned than war. Here let genius find a home, that has sung immor- 
tal strains, or has instructed with still diviner eloquence. Here let 
learning and science, the votaries of inventive art, and the teacher of 
the philosophy of nature, come. Here let youth and beauty, blighted 
by premature decay, drop, like tender blossoms, into the virgin earth ; 
and here let age retire, ripened for the harvest. Above all, here let 
the benefactors of mankind, the good, the merciful, the meek, the pure 
in heart, be congregated ; for to them belongs an undying praise. And 
let us take comfort, nay, let us rejoice, that in future ages, long after 
we are gathered to the generations of other days, thousands of kind- 
ling hearts will here repeat the sublime declarations, ' Blessed are the 
dead who die in the Lord, for they rest from their labors ; and their 
works do follow them.' " 

Extending the possible advantages of such places of sepulture yet 
farther, we may be permitted to quote an English writer — the editor 
of " Chambers' Journal" — who, in a description of the celebrated Ne- 
cropolis at Glasgow, asks, " Can we but wonder that cemeteries of 
this kind should be rare, when we think in what a different position 
we are placed by them, with respect to departed friends 1 As funeral 
matters are usually ordered, we seem to part forever from those we 
have loved and lost. We consign them to the cold, dark, and untended 
ground ; the place of their rest is locked up from our sight, or trodden 
only by strangers; and ere long, the lank grass, the nettle, and the 
.ank weed, choke up their unvisited graves. How different is it with 
such cemeteries as Pere la Chaise ! When we lay down a loved one 



THE CONCLUSION. 119 

there, we can still hold sweet communion with him. We can show 
our affection by planting the loveliest flowers of summer above his 
head, and please ourselves with the belief that the tribute is not unbe- 
held nor unappreciated. We can pull a flower from the place of ins 
repose, and carry it about with us, gratified with the thought, that if 
we cannot have our friend again, we have something, at least, that has 
sprung up from his dust. The place of death is no longer, in our 
eyes, a place of gloom, desertion, and sorrow, at the bare idea of 
which we shudder with horror and dismay. It is an agreeable resting- 
spot, to which we retire at the close of life, still to be visited, and 
gazed on, and cared for, by those we hold dear. Such is the change 
in our feeUngs on this subject, which these beautiful cemeteries arc 
calculated to effect ; and assuredly it is a change adapted neituer to 
make us worse men nor less happy " 



*' Plant not tlie cypress, nor yet the yew, 
Too lieavy their shadow, too gloomy their hue, 
For one who is sleeping in faith and love, 
With a hope that is treasured in heaven above ; 
In a holy trust are my ashes laid — 
Cast ye no aarkncss, throw ye no shade. 

" Flant the green sod with the crimson ro«e ; 
Let mr fi lends rejoice o'er my calm reooiip; 
Let my memory he like the odors shed, 
My hope like the promise of early red ; 
Let strangers share in their breath and bloom- 
Plant ye bright roses over my tomb I" 









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